


Once Upon a Time in Polihex

by wicked3659



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Implied Slash, M/M, Murder Mystery, Other, Wrongful Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz is framed for a crime he did not commit and his story has just begun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Polihex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SunnySidesofBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySidesofBlue/gifts), [pl2363](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pl2363/gifts), [eerian_sadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/gifts).



> Thank you to Sunnysidesofblue for the prompt and encouragement and pl2363 and eerian_sadow for cheer leading and reading through the draft. This story is for you. 
> 
> Based on this prompt from livejournal's TF Bunny Farm:-  
> So, the basic idea is this: Jazz was in a relationship with someone he thought was just a normal guy but who turned out to be anything but. In my mind he’s either a psychopath with a hang up or a criminal who wants a scapegoat. For whatever reason, he decided to frame Jazz for a crime bad enough to put him away forever - rape, torture, murder or possibly a combination of all three. Times, places, victims and evidence all seemed to fit when the enforcers came looking and a shell-shocked Jazz was convicted and sent to prison. And for a mech of small build with no experience in fighting or the shady side of society, prison is a brutal place.
> 
> ****
> 
> Some time later Prowl (enforcer/enforcer-to-be/crime writer/whatever) comes across the case and for some reason starts looking into it, even though it’s been officially closed for a long time. And he finds something that makes him dig deeper. He gets to hear Jazz’s version of what happened and finds to his own astonishment that he actually believes him, against all reason. Question is, will he ever be able to prove it?

**Archives of Central Polihex.**

Marching through the archives, he was a mech on a mission. His research had taken him across the length and breadth of Cybertron and he had heard stories and spoken to mechs he never would have believed when he first started this project.

Other mechs did projects, Prowl conducted planet wide investigations. That was why he was the best. Crime analysis was not a job for the faint of spark. Compiling historical cases and analysing them in order to predict and control future crimes. Not many had the processor capabilities to do it and those that did usually sought out the high flying military tactical or citizen enforcer positions.

Prowl believed his work was important. His crime analyses and publications had helped reduced crime to almost zero in Praxus. All thanks to the methods he helped the enforcers develop, to combat typical and nontypical criminal behaviours and actions. His analysis had covered 1000s of historical cases and he had earned himself a very good reputation across the planet. His services had been demanded from high crime cities and he'd steadily added to his research, whether or not the local enforcers adopted his methods.

In addition to this 'project', Prowl used his vast criminal case knowledge to write. He was widely published in both non fiction and fictional genres and had amassed quite a fan base as a thriller-crime writer. Though of course, under a pseudonym.

"Prowl,  sir! I think I've found it!"

The black and white sighed softly at his overly exuberant assistant. He meant well, they all meant well, but Prowl found them to be more of a distractive hindrance rather than a help to his research. That being said, this one, a mech by the name of Sidewinder, had stuck with him for longer than most - in spite of prowl's typically acerbic and stoic personality - and had shown a keen interest in and intuition of criminal cases and behaviour.

Prowl had subsequently resigned himself to the mech's excitable and at times overly cheerful demeanour. If he hadn't quit yet, Prowl did not have the spark to fire him and rather found he had come to respect Sidewinder's resilience and tolerance of his more anti-social traits.

He made his way over to Sidewinder and a small smile graced his faceplates. “Good work, Sidewinder, I’ll take it from here,” Prowl declared succinctly.

Looking crestfallen, Sidewinder fidgeted and hesitated to leave.

Prowl spared him a sidelong glance. “You have something to say?”

“Well, I was hoping I could stay, you know, help you do the research. I know you say it takes a trained optic and fast processor but I am good at organising things how you like them to be done and you have to admit it does make your work go faster,” he folded his arms stubbornly, regarding Prowl with a pointed, if hopeful look.

Meeting Sidewinder’s gaze, Prowl didn’t respond for a klik as he weighed up the pros and cons of this mech’s potential for distraction. “You may stay,” he declared, after a short while. Without another word he turned and headed into the central criminal archive vault with a sweep of his doorwings.

Sidewinder practically jumped with excitement and swiftly followed in Prowl’s footsteps. It was the first time the prickly mech had allowed him to remain for the research aspect. He’d gradually, subtly and persistently pushed at the boundaries of that icy shell, Prowl surrounded himself with at all times of the cycle - or so he presumed, he wasn’t around for the mech’s recharge - and his patience was slowly but surely, finally starting to pay off.

****

Cycles passed before Prowl felt he had enough data to compile at least a preliminary analysis. There was one last datapad to look through. It was one that Sidewinder had suggested based on the heinous nature of the crimes listed within it. Gently he took it from the recharging mech's hand and plugged in the data cable. Plugging in directly made siphoning through the data easier, although it was only possible due to his in built tactical suite. A tactical suite that over eager creators had had installed into his adult upgrades in the hope he would become an enforcer, like his carrier.  Prowl had long since accepted their perpetual disappointment.

Reviewing the cases he came across a file containing the gruesome details of infanticide. That in itself was unusual. Sparklings were revered on Cybertron, mostly due to the fact that natural born sparklings were rare, relatively speaking when compared to a Cybertronian's lifespan. Their longevity had vastly contributed to the decline in sparklings. To the point where there was only, on average, a hundred sparklings for every second vorn. As a result every sparkling was precious for the new coding and CNA it would introduce into Cybertronian society upon reaching maturity. This was essential for their species continued development.

Perusing the file, Prowl looked at the case notes and witness statements as well as the statements of the accused. Twelve sparklings had been killed in a nursery, along with the four mechs who worked there. Each sparkling had been stabbed in the chest and left to bleed out. A slow agonising death. It was sadistic enough that even Prowl hesitated before reading further. The guardians had been tortured, plating removed, chained up and it was suspected that they had been forced to watch the death of every single sparkling under their care. One of the mechs following postmortem was discovered to have been raped by a modified fake spike, part of which had still been lodged within the unfortunate mech's valve.

Prowl shuttered his optics and stole a moment to compose himself as a shudder of revulsion rippled through him. Delving deeper, a video file caught his attention. It wasn't surprising that the investigators had recorded the interview with the criminal. The nature of the case would have warranted thorough methods.  He was however surprised to find that the crime had happened six vorns ago and the vid file for his last appeal was fairly recent, recorded only two vorns ago. Yet he had not heard of this case, nor the subsequent appeals the accused had filed until his credits had run out. Opening the vid file, Prowl frowned with concentration as the image flickered across his HUD.

**Polihex: Enforcer central**

**Psychological review for appeal request Case: 43876**

**Prisoner: #763-935 (Jazz)**

**Appeal request: #8**

**Charges: 12 counts of premeditated Infanticide. 4 counts of torture leading to deactivation. 1 count of rape with a foreign object. 4 counts of murder.**

**Sentence: life incarceration.**

**Notes: considered for reformatting/deactivation (commuted due to good behaviour).**

**Medical note: Subject on suicide watch.**

_"I understand how you feel about this, Jazz, but-”_   
  
_The criminal, Jazz, interrupted his visitor with short, harsh bark of laughter. Leaning forward as far as the chains allowed he stared the other mech right in the optics._   
  
_“Really?” he said, voice barely above a whisper but dripping with sarcasm. “You understand how it feels to be accused, tried and convicted for a crime you didn’t commit? You understand how it feels to be betrayed by a mech you thought you could trust with your life? You understand how it feels to have your whole life and future taken from you, to be thrown into a cage with the worst monsters this planet has ever produced? You understand how it feels to wake up every morning, hoping against hope you won’t be beaten or raped more than five or six times before the day is over?”_   
  
_He leaned back against the wall with a derisive snort._   
  
_“Pardon me for putting it bluntly, Sir, but you understand slag.”_

_"This is just protocol," the enforcer pointed out. "A psych review for appeal hearings is mandatory, given the nature of your crimes."_

_"My crimes?" Jazz let out a bitter laugh. "Frag you, turn that slag off, I'm done talking."_

_"That would not be advisable."_

_"You already believe I'm guilty regardless of what I say, if I'm crazy it's because this place turned me crazy. You're not getting your confession because there's nothing to confess." Jazz sank against the wall, defeated._

_The two enforcers shared a glance  and the first shook his helm subtly and the vid file cut off abruptly._

Prowl froze the image of the mech Jazz and frowned deeply. He had met a lot of bad sparks in his line of work, many had done unspeakable things and with the majority of them, you could tell before they spoke they were evil to the core. This Jazz fell into the indefinable category. He looked perfectly normal and certainly not like a mech that would murder sparklings in their berths.

Criminals that fell into this category were the ones that sent a chill down Prowl's back struts. There was no way to know or measure just how insane they were or predict when a seemingly normal individual would snap and stab you through the spark. Prowl had found them to be highly intelligent, the most devious of criminals and with a smug pride in their actions that sickened him.

That was where this Jazz differed. He didn't fit the profile of that sort of psychosis. Prowl had never met one that admitted their crimes but none had ever blatantly denied them so vehemently and certainly not to the point of appealing. It was unusual enough, for Prowl to download all the available notes and files on this case and save them for analysing later. The unique and brutal nature of the case alone was definitely worth further investigation.

****

**Polihex Grand hotel**

"Here."

Prowl glanced up at his assistant quizzically. "I didn't ask for any energon."

Sidewinder smirked. "No but you haven't stopped researching all cycle. I'm betting you haven't bothered to fuel either."

Prowl checked his chronometer and hummed in surprise. Being so engrossed in Jazz's case, he hadn't noticed how late in the cycle it had gotten. "Thank you," he finally stated, graciously accepting the cube.

Sidewinder grinned and sat down. "Anything I can help with?" He asked, picking up one of the datafiles. "This doesn't look like your usual."

Prowl nodded. "Yes, I discovered this case on the datapad you recommended. "There are certain discrepancies that are making me dig more into the background of the case."

Sidewinder frowned slightly. "Witness statements and enforcer background checks?" He glanced at Prowl who managed to look mildly contrite. "This isn't what you usually research. I thought it was all about the crime and the criminal rather than those who caught the fragger?"

"Precisely, " Prowl replied with a flick of his doorwings. "That is why I have requested to speak with Jazz in person."

Baulking at Prowl in surprise,  Sidewinder lowered the datapad. "Where's that going to get you?" He frowned with concern.

Plucking the datapad from his assistant, Prowl was undeterred by his challenging tone. "It is just as you said, Sidewinder, where better to research a crime than with the criminal? I am merely being thorough."

"You're looking for your next thriller you mean," Sidewinder huffed in irritation.

"I'm not sure why this is suddenly a problem for you. I have interviewed criminals for worse crimes in the past."

"You only get this interested in a case when you're in thriller writer;  Isotron Quartz mode," Sidewinder countered. "And with a case like this, I don't know, Prowl, I think you're only going to find trouble."

Prowl canted his helm at Sidewinder. "Why do you say that?"

"Look, you know I'm just looking out for you. It's my job, but think about it, Prowl, why have we never heard about a case involving torture and mass infanticide? That should have hit news feeds planet wide but it didn't. It was kept quiet, covered up."

Prowl nodded in agreement. "And that is precisely why I must find out more and the logical place to start, is with him," Prowl turned the pad around and tapped Jazz's image.

Pursing his lip components, Sidewinder shrugged. "You'll be lucky if he grants your request. He doesn't look like the chatty type."

Prowl gave him a rare knowing smile. "He already has."

****

 


	2. First Meeting

**Polihex high security prison:**

**Isolation wing**

"Visitor roll call!"

Glancing up briefly, the black and white returned to reading his battered datapad,  with his copies of old Isotron Quartz novels. He'd found them in the prison library and had discovered he had a liking for adventure crime thrillers with just a hint of espionage. He'd just got to the good part too, his visitor could be kept waiting a little while longer. It wasn't like he was going anywhere.

"935, on your feet, visitor's waiting," the guard gave him a raised optic ridge and a shake of his helm. "Come on, Jazz, there's being fashionably late and then there's just being late."

Jazz smirked up at the large hulking figure of the guard. "You know me, like to make an entrance."

The guard huffed. "Yeah, hopefully this time not covered in another bot's energon."

Jazz shrugged as he got to his feet and held his arms out for a weapons scan. "Mech, asked for it."

"They'll keep you locked up in here for good if you're not careful," the guard warned with genuine concern.

Jazz smiled devilishly and held out his arms for the stasis cuffs.

The guard vented with mild frustration and closed the cuffs about his wrists and legs, activating them to mid power. He frowned when Jazz flinched. "Too high?"

"Nah, tickles," he grinned at the guard. "Healing injuries, Warpath, mech, you keep worrying about me like this, you're going to get yourself in trouble."

Warpath frowned at Jazz, as he led him out of the cell. "Isolation isn't good for any bot, especially not two straight vorns of it."

"Not two," Jazz pointed out.

"Primus, how could I forget the three cycles in central lock up, where you not only managed to injure the newbie, you scared the slag out of him by the way, you killed an inmate and then tried to kill yourself in a murder suicide, landing you straight back in isolation."

"What can I say? I like it here," Jazz smirked.

Warpath shook his helm and stopped at a sealed room monitored by cameras and a localised EM pulse generator in case of emergencies. "You'll die here, Jazz," he warned with sadness.

"Chance would be a fine thing," Jazz laughed bitterly.

"What happened to your fight? The innocent mech who'd stop at nothing until the truth was known?"

Jazz's visor dimmed and he turned to face the door. "Didn't you hear? They rejected his last appeal, took the last of his life savings. I got nothing left," he whispered. "Open the door."

Warpath knew better than to argue. Jazz had become increasingly stubborn, obstinate and belligerent in the last two vorns. "Prisoner 935," he announced, unlocking the door and letting Jazz step through before sealing it shut behind him.

****

Jazz looked his visitor up and down discreetly from behind his visor, before sitting down. Praxian, you didn't catch those much outside of Praxus. "So..." he started casually. "Here I am."

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Jazz. I know my request must seem unusual.”

“Somewhat,” Jazz replied nonchalantly, masking his surprise at the use of his name. Outside of Warpath, Jazz hadn’t heard his real name much at all. Other inmates didn’t care to know it and everyone else called him 935. “Gotta say, I wasn’t sure I should, your request wasn’t exactly heavy on the details.”

The mech dipped his helm slightly in apology. “I did not want to… spook you into silence.”

“What the frag could you possibly want that would spook the likes of little ol’ me?” Jazz chuckled in amusement.

“I want to know your side of events. What happened, why you are here.”

“Frag off.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Mech, you already know why I’m here or you wouldn’t have come sniffing around. What you some newbie journalist hoping to make it big with a profile on one of the worst criminals in Cybertron’s history, or just some rookie enforcer set up by his colleagues to test his mettle?”

The Praxian frowned. “Neither. I genuinely want to know.”

Jazz pushed out of his seat and walked to the door, glaring at a camera. “Open the door, I’m done, ‘Path!”

“I do not understand. If you are as innocent as you claim, surely the chance to speak out would be a welcome one,” the Praxian called out across the room.

Jazz turned suddenly and slammed his hands down onto the desk separating them. His visor picked up the shimmer of the invisible force shield that cut the room in half and he levelled a cold glare at the Praxian, who - apart from a noticeable rise in his doorwings - had barely flinched. “Six vorns I’ve been in this place. Two vorns ago, my last appeal was rejected with no hope of applying for another. Ever. Where were you and your chances then, huh?” he growled out menacingly. “Innocent or not a smart mech knows when to quit. For me that was two vorns ago. Nobody was interested in the truth then and they sure as pit ain’t going to be interested now, so take your quest for the truth and shove it up your tailpipe. I got nothin’ to say.”

The Praxian frowned deeply as Jazz turned to face the guard who had appeared and held out his hands for the stasis cuffs. He stood and looked down at the floor. He needed Jazz’s version of events if any of the data he’d found was to make sense and be usable in his analysis. “I can pay you!” he blurted out.

Jazz held up a hand to Warpath and half turned to stare in bemusement at the Praxian. “Mech, have you seen where you are? This is the aft end of the universe. Your credits mean nothin’ here.”

“Then what do you need?” the Praxian asked quickly.

Jazz bit back his immediate retort and glanced at Warpath who shrugged in mild confusion. “You’re serious?”

The Praxian stood even straighter - if that were possible, Jazz noted to himself - and held his hard gaze with an unwavering one of his own. “Always,” he stated as if it had been a ludicrous question to begin with.

“Alright,” Jazz began slowly, eyeing the mech suspiciously. “For starters, you seem to know all about me, I think it’s fair I know about you.”

“Of course. My designation is Prowl and I’m a crime analyst from Praxus,” the Praxian responded with a polite bow of his helm.

Jazz hummed in acknowledgement and couldn’t help but smirk at how formal the Praxian, Prowl was being. Were all Praxians like this or just this one, he mused. “Prowl from Praxus, I like bookfiles. Crime, thriller stories in particular. The prison only stocks old stories, writers don’t get many sales here as you can imagine,” he explained dryly. “I’d like a new one, I’m just about finished with the one I’m reading and I’ve read it several times, oh and some energon goodies, the ones from the Tetra market, handmade, best in Polihex. Bit on the pricey side though.”

“That’s all and you’ll answer my questions?” Prowl asked in surprise.

Jazz smirked and turned back to Warpath, holding out his arms once more. “If you’re serious, you come back with a book and a handful of goodies and I’ll answer whatever you want, mech,” he grinned up at Warpath, before looking back over his shoulder, only to find that the Praxian had already left. “Yeah,” he murmured softly, visor dimming. “Didn’t think so.”

****

Jazz sprawled on his hard berth, idly picking at an old weld scar. His optics were dark behind his visor and he was replaying an old memory file of his life before it had all turned to slag.

"You have another request."

Warpath's deep tenor pulled Jazz out of his reverie and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Is that so?" he smirked. "Same nosy Praxian?"

"The very same."

"Well best grant it I suppose," he lay back down, pillowing his hands behind his helm.

"Alright, on your feet then," Warpath replied, deactivating the force shield.

"Huh?"

"Praxian is here, now. He's in the visitor room, waiting."

In his surprise, Jazz didn't have a response and automatically got to his feet.

"Not like you to be lost for words," Warpath commented with faint amusement.

"Not used to anyone being interested in listening," Jazz answered softly. He wouldn't get his hopes up. He had learned that lesson the hard way far too many times.

He hesitated before the door and glanced at Warpath. "Do you think he's on the level?"

Warpath deactivated the stasis cuffs. "Haven't met a Praxian that wasn't."

Jazz snorted in amusement. "Like any of us have prior experience meeting a Praxian."

"Exactly," Warpath replied cryptically before opening the door and announcing Jazz's prison designation.

****

Prowl looked up as Jazz entered the room. "Thank you for accepting this request on short notice."

"How could I not? Get the feeling you don't quit easily," Jazz answered with a small smile as he sat down.

Prowl ducked his helm slightly with a subtle smile of his own. "You would be correct in that assessment. I have been called tenacious."

"Among other things I'm sure," Jazz added with a smirk.

Prowl didn't respond to the mech's light dig and instead got to his feet and placed a couple of items into the gift repository. "I have brought what you requested."

Jazz got up and waited at the receiving end for Warpath to check the items before submitting them. Picking them up Jazz browsed through the datapad's contents and his visor flashed with disbelief. "This is the entire Isotron series to date."

Prowl nodded. "I hope there are some you haven't yet read. I've included some other novels in the same genre in case you desired some variety."

Jazz sat slowly, a little humbled by Prowl's gift. "You didn't have to do this."

"It was no trouble, think nothing of it."

Placing the pad down, Jazz opened the second container and let out a delighted laugh. "Mech are you for real?"

"Is there a problem?" Prowl asked, concerned the concoctions had been ruined.

"Only problem will be my purging from gorging on these beauties," Jazz chuckled, popping one of the goodies into his mouth with a satisfied hum. He leant back in his seat and gestured towards Prowl. "Alright, mech. You fulfilled your end. What do you want to know?"

****

 


	3. History

**6 Vorns previous**

**Polihex - civilian district.**

Jazz wandered to work with a smile on his face. He was a lucky mech. He had the job he'd always wanted even if he wasn't yet in the position he wanted and he had a great mech to go home to. Primus was definitely smiling on him.

He stopped when he saw a mech hovering outside his work. "Meta?"  He headed over and canted his helm at his mech, who greeted him with a bright smile.

"Jazz, I didn't know you'd be at work so early, I wanted to surprise you."

Jazz didn't get chance to respond before he was wrapped up in a tight embrace and kissed fiercely. Pushing back a little, Jazz laughed. "Love, what's gotten into you?" He cupped his face and smiled up at the slightly larger mech. "You seem tense."

Meta sighed softly and took Jazz's hands. "I am afraid I have some bad news. I have business in Iacon and I'm going to be away for a few cycles, possibly a groon."

Deflating a little, Jazz nodded. "Well alright, work is work right?" He smiled faintly. "A groon isn't so long and we can still talk over the comm. Network."

Smiling, Meta squeezed Jazz's hands. "I knew you'd understand, Jazz. I do have to leave this cycle though."

"Is that why you're here?" Jazz swatted him playfully. "Thought you'd come sweep me out of work did you, get a little bit more of Jazz to keep you going until you get back."

Meta's optics brightened. "Of course. You figured me out!" He laughed.

"Alright let me just go and tell my boss."

"No need," Meta caught Jazz's wrist as he pulled away. "I've already told him. He gave you the cycle off. Come on," he grinned at Jazz. "Let's go get those goodies you like and lets 'face repeatedly," he brushed his fingers over Jazz's cheek. "The best send off and perfect incentive to get back to you quicker."

Smiling brightly, Jazz nodded and let his mech lead him away. "I'm all yours, beautiful."

****

The cycle had been wonderful. Jazz lay sprawled on his ample sized berth, revelling in the memory of the previous cycle. Meta had long since set off for Iacon and although he would miss him, Jazz was content in the knowledge he would see him again soon.

His door buzzer chimed and he groaned. He had not had nearly enough recharge to counter all the high grade and 'facing. Burying his face into his pillow he let out a sigh of exasperation when the buzzer chimed again. "Alright, I'm coming."

Jazz ambled to the door and opened it with a smile, which quickly turned into a frown when he was greeted by two grim faced enforcers. "Officers, what can I do for you?"

"We'd like to ask you a few questions if possible, Sir. Can we come in?"

"Um sure," Jazz stepped aside and his frown deepened when the enforcers began casually looking over his apartment. "Mechs, I didn't authorise a search.  What is this about?" He asked, folding his arms defensively.

The enforcers glanced at one another. "We'd like to know where you were, the last two cycles."

"I was here then at work, then here and then last cycle I spent here with my partner."

"Can anyone corroborate that?"

"Yeah, my boss, my partner. What the frag is going on?"

The second enforcer spoke up. "You work at the Central Academy for Music, correct?"

Jazz nodded, feeling distinctly uneasy.

"Do you recognise this mech?" The enforcer held up a datapad with a frozen image capture of a mech whose frame had already greyed and was covered in deep lacerations.

Jazz's optics brightened and he covered his mouth in shock. "That's my boss. What happened?"

"He was murdered, approximately a cycle ago."

"Yeah, I can fraggin' see that. By whom?" Jazz demanded fiercely. He stilled when the enforcers didn't reply straight away and took a couple of steps back. "Now wait just a slaggin' minute. I was here all last cycle. Never got to work. Meta came to surprise me, we went out for drinks, spent the whole cycle together. You can ask him, if you don't believe me!"

The enforcers nodded. "We are going to have to contact him immediately. You have his comm frequency?"

"Yeah," Jazz held out his hand for the datapad and typed the frequency into it. "There.  Call him ask him." He demanded urgently.

The first enforcer tried and after a short while glanced at his colleague and shook his helm. The second enforcer tried and frowned at Jazz. "This frequency is invalid."

"Invalid my aft!" Jazz retorted angrily. "I'll call him myself," he accessed his comm and set it to public so the enforcers could hear. He waited a few klicks before an error flashed up on his HUD. Unable to initiate connection. Frequency invalid. "What the frag?" He uttered, his processor spinning. "He was just here, I don't understand."

"What is the mech's designation?"

"Meta, sorry that's his nickname, his name is Metasis."

The second enforcer searched their databanks and shook his helm once more. Then he accessed Polihex's information archive. "There's no record of a Metasis residing or entering Polihex."

Jazz stared at them in disbelief and shock. "That's gotta be a mistake,  he was here," he trailed off meekly.

The enforcers approached and turned a stunned Jazz around to lock his wrists in stasis cuffs. "You are under arrest citizen Jazz for murder,  torture and infanticide."

Jazz struggled upon hearing the charges. "What the frag, no! I didn't kill anyone,  I wouldn't.  Let me go. I didn't do anything.  You've got the wrong mech!"

"They all say that," the first enforcer commented.

The enforcers held him firmly and removed him from the apartment, ignoring his struggles and pleas.

****

Jazz paused in. His retelling and eyed Prowl curiously. "What's with the face?" He idly gestured at Prowl, who was frowning deeply.

"I'm sorry,  I just felt that the enforcers were very blazé in their search for your partner. That should have been followed up more thoroughly, descriptions taken other enforcer districts contacted..." Prowl trailed off at Jazz's bemused expression. "I apologise. My Carrier is an enforcer and I was trained as such before deciding to take my expertise along a different path."

"I see," Jazz shrugged. "To be honest, it just felt like they wanted the case shut as soon as possible."

Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "Please go on."

****

Jazz shoved the image capture away, turning his helm away sharply and desperately fighting the urge to purge his tank. "I'm telling you, I keep telling you, I've never been there. Why would I? Shoving that picture in my face isn't going to stop that being true," Jazz sank in his seat with an exasperated sigh.

At first he'd been angry, then perplexed as to why he hadn't been shown any real proof of him being at the crime scene. A large part of him figured if he just continued to cooperate and answer the enforcer's questions the matter would resolve itself. There was no way they could place him at the crime scene because he'd never been there.

Another enforcer walked in and pinned Jazz with a hard glare. "We have a warrant to test your transfluid to see if your nanites match those found at the crime scene."

Jazz nodded wearily. "Do what you gotta do. Don't say I didn't keep telling you when you find out it's not me."

"You'll need to see our facility medic," the enforcer readied the stasis cuffs.

"Mech you won't be needing those," Jazz pointed out as he got to his feet.

The enforcer have him a shrug. "Protocol."

****

**Polihex: present cycle**

"Next thing I knew, results came back positive for a match. I was sent to the quickest trial in Polihex history and found guilty and here I am," Jazz explained, his visor dim. "Once that fluid matched, I didn't stand a chance but it all happened so fast after that. Even I knew some of their evidence was sketchy at best."

"And they never found, Metasis?" Prowl queried softly, having stopped his note taking a while back.

Jazz shook his helm. "Gave them a detailed description and his family's home address. They thought he was made up. That I was certifiably crazy."

Prowl hummed softly. "Jazz, if I may ask, what do you think happened? After all this time you must have developed theories."

Jazz met Prowl's steady gaze. "I think Meta had something if not everything to do with it. Vanishing like that at that time is just too much of a coincidence for my liking."

"You think he may have been the perpetrator?"

Jazz shrugged and closed his goodie box. "I'm no enforcer but I'm telling you this, you find Meta you'll have the key to this case."

Prowl jotted down a couple of notes and nodded. "Jazz, I want to thank you for speaking with me, it can't have been easy."

Jazz got to his feet as the timer buzzed time up. "Prowl I may not be an innocent mech since I was thrown in here, but I swear to Primus I didn't do the crimes I was put here for and I'm sure a smart mech like you knows what that means," he headed for the door in the stasis cuffs. "Thanks for the gifts I really appreciate them."

Prowl watched him leave, faceplates creased into a deep scowl. "If Jazz is to be believed," and Prowl found he didn't entirely disbelief him, "then the killer is still out there and could kill again," he murmured to himself.

****

**Polihex**

**Civilian District**

"Why are we here again?" Sidewinder asked incredulously.

"Following up a lead," Prowl declared bluntly.

"Following a-- do you hear yourself, Prowl?" Sidewinder stopped in Prowl's path before the mech could enter.  "You do realise you're not  an enforcer, right?"

Prowl frowned at the mech. "That does not mean I should not be thorough."

Sidewinder planted his hands on his hips. "You actually believe his story don't you?"

"There are aspects of his case that are confounding and do not make sense. Jazz's retelling only reinforces that fact, such as why was more effort not put into finding his apparent partner? And why was his employer murdered when he is seemingly unrelated to the sparkling centre if not to cover up Jazz's true whereabouts plus the identity of his wayward partner?"

"Primus, Prowl," Sidewinder pinched his nasal bridge with exasperation. "I didn't take you for one to be sucked into sob stories."

"Sidewinder, I'll thank you to do the job you are paid to do and have a little more faith in my sensibilities. If you believe mere sob stories are enough to sway me from finding the truth and investigating evidence further, then you do not know me at all and perhaps different employment would be more suitable for you," he pushed past Sidewinder and half turned to pin him with an unreadable gaze. "Inaccurate conclusions,  inadequate evidence, corruption is precisely why this project was created. Not investigating would be negligent."

Sidewinder watched Prowl step into the building with a faint scowl, his optics dimming slightly, before he reluctantly followed him inside. A job was a job after all. No matter which direction it went.


	4. Evidence

The place looked nothing like it had in the image captures of the case, Sidewinder noticed. He pursed his lips as he idly followed Prowl, optics roaming over the scene of Jazz's employer. It had long since been cleaned up and was a bustling musical academy. No trace of the grisly incident remained. Folding his arms he huffed as he came to a stop right where the unfortunate mech had bled energon all over the floor. This was ridiculous, Prowl was wasting his time.  The only way to corroborate any of Jazz's story was to find his partner. Sidewinder glanced over at Prowl who was talking with the new boss of the academy and mused absently to himself; not even Prowl could find a mech that clearly didn't want to be found.

Prowl followed the mech he'd been talking to and waited while he retrieved the surveillance recordings.

"The enforcers never did come back for these. I suppose they thought it wasn't necessary. Though in my opinion I'm surprised Jazz was accused based on what evidence they had without them looking at these."

"Why do you say that?" Prowl queried curiously.

"Bass was my mentor but he really liked Jazz, his enthusiasm, his positive attitude. Jazz was nice to everyone and he loved music. Him and Bass were friends. He had absolutely no reason to kill him," the mech frowned and handed Prowl the recordings.

"You believe he's innocent," Prowl stated softly.

Meeting Prowl's pale optics with his own, the mech pressed his mouth into a thin line. "I don't know about the sparkling clinic but I can tell you this, Jazz wouldn't have killed Bass. It just... Just doesn't make any sense."

Prowl nodded and looked down at the recordings. "Thank you for these. I'll return them as soon as I've finished with them."

The mech shook his helm. "Don't worry. They're just the copies. Keep them."

Prowl smiled gratefully and headed for the exit. "Much obliged."

"Hey, will you be visiting him again?" The mech asked hesitantly.

"Potentially. Why?"

"Would you tell him that, Crescendo, Cres, says hello and tell him I'm thinking of him?"

Prowl regarded Crescendo with faint surprise but acquiesced with a small bow of his helm. It appeared that Jazz once had many friends who cared about him and apparently he, them. Prowl frowned in thought. It was contrary to the typical profile of someone capable of committing such heinous acts. Then again, some mechs were masters of disguise.

Stepping into the entrance foyer, Prowl looked around in confusion. He was certain his assistant had followed him but Sidewinder was nowhere to be seen. Prowl opened a comm. //Sidewinder?//

//Oh hey, Prowl. Just down the street. Second building along.//

Cutting the comm Prowl walked down the street and entered what looked like an old storage centre. "This looks like a medical supplies facility," Prowl commented as he stepped inside.

"It was a sparkling clinic," Sidewinder commented quietly. "They put up a memorial plaque here but I'm guessing it was never really used again."

Coming to a stop beside his assistant,  Prowl gazed upon the small inadequate plaque. "Doesn't seem sufficient," he replied softly.

"No. It doesn't," Sidewinder answered somewhat tersely before moving away from Prowl, back toward the exit.

Flicking his doorwings as Sidewinder's irritation rippled in his field, Prowl turned, remaining where he stood. "You don't agree with my investigating Jazz's case."

Sidewinder let out an ungainly snort but wouldn't meet Prowl's optics. "And here I was thinking I was going to have to smack you over the helm to get you to see the obvious."

"Sidewi--"

"--no, Prowl. For once I need you to listen to me and I mean really listen," Sidewinder paused for a klik to make sure that he had Prowl's full attention. "I know you want to help justice be served and can't abide the punishment of innocents but this case is bad news. This isn't just murder thus was sparklacide! Nobody is going to thank you for digging into this and reopening those wounds. This will get you in trouble. You could irreparably damage your career on this project and your writing career. So I want you to ask yourself what is more important to you? This stranger's future that has no bearing on yours and your personal quest for truth and justice or your own life, reputation and that of those close to you?"

Prowl didn't reply immediately as he processed what Sidewinder had said. "I do not think," he began softly, "I could rest easy knowing there was even an iota of doubt in Jazz's guilt. It would mean that there is a chance the true killer is still out there, still a risk. It is not a risk I can allow."

"You can allow?" Sidewinder stared at the Praxian with frustration. "You know you're not a character in one of your novels right?"

"Of course. I have no intention of becoming a vigilante nor a crusader for justice. Once I have gotten to the bottom of my misgivings with this case, I will of course hand over all the evidence to the appropriate authorities."

"You are impossible!"

"Yes, but you knew that when you signed your contract," Prowl replied demurely with a small smirk of amusement.

Sidewinder deflated with a wry grin. "Yeah, I did," he sighed. "If I'm not careful, you're going to be the death of me," he headed to the exit. "You coming? I could use a drink."

Prowl smiled and followed him out.  "Admit it, Sidewinder, any other job would bore you."

"Pffft I only stroke your ego on paid time," Sidewinder chuckled.

Walking beside his assistant, Prowl hummed with vague amusement. "How did you know where the clinic was anyway?"

"Oh, you know from the image captures of the crime scene," Sidewinder answered dismissively before getting distracted by a small club with a live band. "Prowl let's refuel here. This looks like a nice place. Not too loud just how you like it," he threw a bright smile over his shoulder as he ducked inside.

Prowl hesitated at the entrance. "Yes, just how I like it," he replied absently. His optics were bright as his processor worked at full capacity, scanning through his memory files of this case. He looked back in the direction they'd come from with a frown. He had no such image capture of the clinic in its current state. Would Sidewinder deliberately keep evidence from him? Was he really so concerned about there being consequences of his investigation?

Prowl had to wonder though. Why had the sparkling clinic been renovated into a nondescript storage building in the first place? A crime such as this one warranted a larger memorial. It was almost as though someone hadn't wanted the incident to be remembered. As though it had been covered up.

****

**Polihex high security prison:**

**Isolation wing**

Jazz entered the small room with his guard up. He'd been in this room more times in the last few cycles than in all six vorns combined. Warpath had told him the visitor wasn't Prowl and he had no idea who it could be. He hadn't recognised the name Warpath had given him.

The visitor sat serenely on the other side of the table, hands clasped in front of him. "Hello, Jazz. It's nice to see you looking well. Especially in this place."

Eyeing the mech suspiciously, Jazz slowly sat down. "Do I know you?"

The mech smiled and absently waved his hand. "Of a fashion. Not looking like this of course," he chuckled.

Jazz frowned not liking the cryptic answer. A thread of worry curled about his spark. "Alright I'll bite, what do you want?"

The mech hummed thoughtfully, sharp optics roaming idly over Jazz's frame. "Many things. Principally, I want you to stop spreading lies."

Jazz froze at that, not liking the way the mech was looking at him. A gaze not too dissimilar from those cast by his fellow prisoners and abusers. "You want to run that by me again?"

The mech sighed and pursed his lips. "Telling your lies to your new Praxian friend is going to cause trouble. More for him than you, with you being so safely tucked away in here, but do not think for a klik that trouble will not find you in here."

"First of all," Jazz growled, "I have told no lies, I don't care what evidence they have against me, I was framed, you hear me? And secondly, you think you can threaten me? Have you looked around you, do you really think trouble hasn't already found me? Do your worst, mech, I have nothing to lose."

"Yes," the mech countered calmly. "But Prowl does."

Jazz's optics flickered behind his visor. "How did you know his name...? Just who the frag are you!?" He snarled lunging for the mech over the desk causing the shield to shimmer as his reaching hand skimmed its surface.

The visitor watched with a faint smirk. "So much anger. It's rather becoming on you, love."

Feeling his spark go cold at the distinctly low familiar tone, which was almost a purr, Jazz pulled back sharply. "Meta..?" He whispered in shock.

The visitor stood. "I told you I'd come back for you, don't you remember?" The mech rounded the table and stood next to the shield. "You were always such a good little mech."

"You did this," Jazz hissed, anger burning through his entire body, his fists clenching.

"Don't be preposterous," the visitor laughed. "Those with much more to lose if the truth came out, did this. I have always been merely a weapon."

"Why me? What did I ever do to you?" Jazz bit out through clenched denta.

"Well you were there, Jazz and you were convenient. Surely that much was obvious?" The mech gazed at Jazz with something akin to sorrow, but Jazz didn't for a micro klik believe that it was. "Regardless, I am here ensuring harmony," he smiled. "You can be instrumental in maintaining that peace."

"I'm doing nothing for you."

"Then do it for your Praxian friend," the visitor suggested somberly. "Call him back, meet him, tell him you lied, make up a sob story if you like, say you did it for much sought after attention. He has a soft spark for those, despite outward appearances. He probably won't even be angry."

Jazz glared at the visitor. "And if he doesn't believe me?"

"You make him believe you, or by the time I'm done,  you'll wish I had killed you along with Bass six vorns ago. I have plenty of connections, inside and out, enforcers and otherwise. You will deactivate knowing that everyone you have come into contact with, will suffer horribly before they join you. Am I clear, Jazz?"

"... as Praxian crystal," Jazz snarled darkly.

"Good. I knew you would see reason," the mech smiled brightly. "It was lovely to see you again, Jazz," the visitor headed for the exit. "And I must say, the visor look is quite fetching."

"Metasis," Jazz called out. "If I ever get out of this place. I'm coming for you and I'm going to tear your spark right out of your chest."

Laughing the mech half turned to look back at Jazz, "Don't be silly, Jazz, you are never getting out of here alive," he paused for klik with a faint smirk. "To show you I'm serious, I left you a small gift."

Jazz stared at the exit, "Warpath," he murmured, turning toward the guard's office with urgency as an alarm suddenly rang out through the prison. "Warpath!" he hollered, running toward the gift chute. The small room erupted into a plasma ball, sending Jazz flying to the other side of the visitor's room, where his world turned black.

****

Prowl was frowning at his personal console in his temporary office when Sidewinder strolled in.

“Hey, Prowl, got you your energon because I figured you probably hadn’t fueled again and it looks like I was right, again,” he paused with a quizzical look on his faceplates, “...looking a lot more pensive than usual there, Prowl, what’s going on? Another lead on your solved case?”

“Potentially,” Prowl murmured absently, not stopping Sidewinder from rounding his desk and peering at his message.

“Huh, looks like that Jazz wants to meet you again. Wonder what he has to say this time.”

“I have no idea.”

“You going to go?” Sidewinder asked curiously.

Prowl closed his console and nodded. “I am. The lack of detail at his sudden urgent request is… concerning.”

Sidewinder nodded in understanding. “Can I come this time? I am supposed to be your assistant after all and if you’re insistent on following this up then I should be… assisting, right?”

Pausing on his way out of the office, Prowl levelled a cool gaze at his assistant. “It couldn’t hurt, I suppose. After all,” Prowl subtly smirked as he headed out. “I’m not paying you to just fetch me my energon.”

Sidewinder smirked and followed the Praxian out.


	5. Warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A warning, Jazz style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay but RL ^_^;;

Prowl was shocked to find the prison in disarray. The guards seemed tense, more tense than on his previous visits. He frowned upon learning that Jazz had been moved to central lockup due to the isolation wing being bombed in an unprovoked attack. Officials were considering it an escape attempt and Jazz had been placed under close full cycle observation.

“This place seems disorganised,” Sidewinder muttered into Prowl’s audio as they were led by an enforcer through the low security wing of the prison.

“Probably shaken due to the bombing. An enforcer was injured. They undoubtedly take it personally. It does not bode well for Jazz’s safety,” Prowl murmured in reply.

“Sounds like justice to me.”

Prowl turned on Sidewinder so suddenly that the mech had to back up a couple of steps. “Your opinion, Sidewinder, is just that, an opinion. Given your last comment, we happen to disagree on what justice should entail so I will thank you to keep unhelpful opinions to yourself. Am I clear?”

Taken by surprise, his optics bright, Sidewinder simply nodded. “Sure, Prowl… I didn’t mean anything by it…”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

Sidewinder frowned as Prowl turned away from him. He hadn’t missed the sardonic note in his even tenor. “Just trying to help,” he muttered sullenly as he continued after Prowl. The barest flick of the Praxian’s doorwings was the only acknowledgement Sidewinder received that Prowl had even heard what he’d said. He stopped again when the guard signalled their arrival to the high security wing, visitor’s room.

Glancing over his shoulder at his assistant, Prowl met Sidewinder’s gaze. “You can wait here. As you don’t believe him, there’s not much point in you being in the room.”

Prowl disappeared into the visitor’s section before Sidewinder could argue and the mech found himself ushered to a viewing window, that looked down on the visitor’s room, through a mirrored window. Sighing, Sidewinder folded his arms and watched Prowl make his way across the room, past the other visitors, to Jazz’s cubicle. The mech no longer looked like the one photo from the case file, taken six vorns ago. Jazz was looking a little worse for wear as a result of his stay in central lock up. Clearly the guards assigned to him while the supposed escape attempt was being investigated, weren’t guarding him very hard. Sidewinder could not say that he blamed them. Exacting a personal brand of justice was always exceedingly satisfying.

"Sidewinder,  is it?"

At the sound of the soft voice,  Sidewinder turned in surprise. "Yes, and you are?"

The mech stepped in and closed the door. "A friend. We need to talk."

****

Jazz watched Prowl as he slid into the seat opposite. "Thanks for coming."

"I admit I am surprised you made such an urgent request," Prowl frowned, his optics roaming over Jazz. "You're injured."

"Part of living in a prison,  mech."

Raising an optic ridge, Prowl didn’t respond to that comment. Jazz’s injuries were fresh and getting abuse was not supposed to be a part of living in a prison, no matter what others thought. "Why did you wish to see me?"

"Straight to the point, alright," Jazz hesitated for a klik before continuing, "I did it. I lied. Wanted your attention for obvious reasons. Not really allowed round others much. Got bored," Jazz sat back in his seat and waited.

Prowl opened his mouth and closed it again, his doorwings flicking in agitation. Venting a sigh he clasped his hands on the table between them and gazed at Jazz steadily. “Now, would you like to tell me the real reason you called me here?”

Jazz scowled and glanced casually about the visitor’s centre. “Are you glitched, mech? I just told ya, I killed those people, those… sparklings, you hear me. You gave me what I wanted and in another six vorns when I’m bored again, some other poor sap will too.”

“I don’t believe you,” Prowl replied evenly, his voice quiet even as he detected the unstable shimmer in Jazz’s EM field and the subtlest of hesitations in his voice when he mentioned the murdered sparklings.

“I don’t give a slag what you believe!” Jazz snarled, pushing out of his seat so suddenly that Prowl drew back in his, despite the energy shield between them. Jazz snarled at him angrily. “You want to be that sap, Prowl, fine, I’ll put you right next to Warpath.”

Prowl didn’t get chance to register his confusion at the mention of Jazz’s former guard as the next few kliks happened in a blur. The table on Jazz’s side was lifted and hurled across the room at the energy shield, which buzzed and shimmered violently with the impact. The other prisoners quickly moved away as their visitors fled the room with cries of fear and horror when Jazz began to throw himself at the shield repeatedly.

Prowl was on his feet and backed up against the wall when the shield failed with a crackle and a shower of sparks. The guards were trying to climb over stunned prisoners and wrecked furniture to get to Jazz who had lunged for Prowl. Prowl tried to make a run for it but was viciously dragged to the ground by a doorwing, tearing a holler of pain from him as Jazz pinned him to the floor with one hand tightly around his throat. Leaning in close, Jazz smirked darkly at him and whispered into Prowl’s audio as he struggled beneath him. “Trust no one.”

Prowl’s optics went bright and his mouth fell open with a sharp gasp of pain as Jazz reared back with his other arm raised and plunged a twisted piece of his own plating into Prowl’s chest. Alarms screamed at Prowl and his HUD flashed red as the jagged edge just scraped along the outer casing of his spark chamber, piercing his central energon line. Intakes hitched and ragged, Prowl could only watch as Jazz was dragged off of him by multiple guards, his laughter manic and insane as he hollered at him.

“Believe me now, glitch? How’s that for truth?!” He almost broke free before being pinned face down to the floor. His visor met Prowl’s flickering optics across the now energon covered floor and dimmed, his manic grin fading to a sad smile as he whispered the words; “Trust no one…”

That was the last thing Prowl saw and heard before his HUD flashed a low energon warning and his body shut down into stasis.

****

**Polihex: District Hospital**

Sidewinder shifted uncomfortably in his seat, it was virtually impossible to recharge like this.

“How long…?”

Sidewinder woke up with a start. “Prowl?” he leaned over the mech’s medical berth with a frown. “How are you feeling?” he whispered with concern.

“Like slag,” Prowl murmured. “How long was I in stasis?”

“Not too long, the prison medics managed to stem most of the energon loss and patch the wound until you could be brought to the hospital,” he frowned deeply a hand lightly resting on Prowl’s arm. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed, your spark chamber got scratched. Another micrometer and--”

“--I’m well aware, Sidewinder,” Prowl interrupted. “He wasn’t trying to kill me.”

Optics brightening at that, Sidewinder frowned a little. “How… what? Do you see where you are?”

Prowl remembered Jazz’s repeated warning of ‘trust no one,’ and hesitated a fraction before answering. “It’s just a feeling.”

Huffing indignantly, Sidewinder shook his helm and took hold of Prowl’s hand giving it a squeeze. “You and your slaggin’ feelings, huh? Should stick to writing your thrillers, not trying to be in one,” he added with a small smile.

Prowl managed a small smile back. “You need rest. I am in no danger of offlining, go home.”

“I’m staying right--”

“--Sidewinder, I’m fine, thank you for being here, I do appreciate it but you need rest if you’re to be any use to me at all,” he quipped gently.

Relenting, Sidewinder grinned. “See you being stabbed hasn’t dampened that arid humour of yours,” he stood and paused thoughtfully for a klik before leaning over and pressing a kiss to the centre of Prowl’s chevron. “Was worried about you, glad you’re okay. Take your own advice and rest yourself, okay?”

Prowl tried not to tense at the more than friendly contact and gave his assistant a nod. “You have my word,” he uttered softly. He watched Sidewinder leave his room and waited a little while before trying to move. His chest twinged and he pressed a hand over the fresh weld. He replayed the memory of his conversation with Jazz and frowned.

_‘I’ll put you right next to Warpath...’_

Prowl glanced at his door before deftly unplugging the monitors attached to him and padding silently out of his room. Peering up and down the corridor, Prowl headed for a nearby nurses station and feigned disinterest. The patient room list was up on one of the monitors and Prowl discreetly waited until the nurse was called away before sneaking around the desk and scrolling through it. Finding what he was looking for, he quickly made his way onto the grafting ward. Warpath had been the guard at Jazz’s prison, he’d been caught in the explosion and was in this very hospital for treatment. It couldn’t just be a coincidence, Jazz had to have intended for this to happen.

Finding the room, he quietly stepped inside and closed the door. Unbeknownst to him a pair of optics watching him from a darkened adjacent room, flickered with surprise, before a mech stepped out with a scowl and quickly marched away.


	6. Complications

Warpath’s optics dimly lit when his sensors picked up another presence in the room. The guard huffed a painful sounding chuckle. “Wondered when I’d be seeing you…” he uttered hoarsely.

“You knew I would come?” Prowl asked, confused. Even he hadn’t known he would come.

“Jazz is in trouble.”

“He is, he’s the reason I’m here,” Prowl absently brushed his fingers over his chest. “He resorted to extreme methods to get me here, almost pierced my spark chamber. I’m not sure why.”

“A mech came to see him… in isolation… Metawatt… Metagig… something, I don’t recall…”

“Metasis?” Prowl was shocked. After all this time, Jazz’s former lover reappearing was more than suspicious.

Warpath shuddered as he tried to move. “Yeah… spoke some slag… threatened him I think… dropped off a package before Jazz was in the room, I was halfway through scanning it when the mech upped and left and next thing I know I’m waking up here.”

“So this Metasis bombed the prison?”

“Looks that way…”

Prowl frowned deeply. “Jazz is being investigated, they think it was an escape attempt and nobody has been allowed to speak with you yet.”

Warpath frowned. “That’s slag… something’s going on… you started something… got someone afraid… Jazz… he’s glitched but he’s no killer. I’ve been on this job long enough to know that. Well should say wasn’t a killer, being inside… changed him…”

“I believe he was trying to warn me, told me not to trust anyone. How far up does this go?”

“No idea… Didn’t think anything of Jazz’s case really until that mech appeared,” Warpath frowned. “Gotta help him.”

“I will. I have recorded our conversation, I will present to the authorities--”

“--no! Take it out of Polihex, take it higher. Iacon if you have to. Slag went down here, enforcers are corrupt from the bottom up, too much Kaon influence.” Warpath gazed at Prowl intently. “Please… promise you’ll do that?”

Prowl nodded, his worry growing. He had nothing substantial yet, nothing to take to any authorities. “I think you’re in danger,” he murmured softly. “We need to get you out of here.”

Warpath huffed a laugh. “Not going anywhere. I don’t even have plating under this tarp. Got melted good. Will have to take my chances here, don’t worry about me. Jazz won’t make it if he stays in lock up… you’re his only chance now... “ he grinned weakly up at Prowl. “Go, keep doing what you’re doing, don’t talk to anyone about this…tell Jazz I said thanks for the present.”

Prowl canted his helm in confusion. “Present?”

Warpath laughed before his intakes seized a little. “You, mech. Not a bad sight for sore optics. Go on, get Jazz’s aft out of trouble if you can.”

Giving the guard a small smile, Prowl patted his shoulder. “I’ll check on you when I can,” he assured before heading out, glancing around the empty corridor. Making a quick discreet exit, Prowl made his way to the hospital exit without discharging himself, his processor swimming with incomplete information. This was certainly turning into a pretty mess.

****

The dark cycle meant that the hospital was less busy. The mech walked with a sense of purpose and slipped inside his intended room. He didn’t turn on the lights and silently made his way to the dimly lit berth where the monitor could be heard beeping. Energon dagger in hand, he crept closer and froze when he found the berth empty. A snarl escaped his vocaliser as he plunged his knife into the monitor, its beeping dying with a crackle and a whimper.

//Yeah, it’s me//

The mech spoke tersely over the comm.

//Did what you asked. Fragger was gone when I got here..// the mech winced at the response and his frown deepened. //I’ll find him.//

****

**Grand Nova Hotel**

**Central Polihex**

“Prowl? It has been a long time,” the deep tenor of the other Praxian resonated through the room, his proud faceplates filling the screen.

Prowl bowed his helm respectfully. “Austere… creator, I am… sorry for my lack of communication. I have been busy.”

The elder mech raised an optic ridge. “So it would seem. How is your writing going?” he asked with vague disinterest in the actual answer as he busied himself with something off screen.

“I am the most successful crime novelist on Cybertron, Creator you know this. Also my work in cataloguing and analysing crime patterns has helped a number of city states lower their overall crime rates.”

“Yes, but are you actually going to do anything worthwhile? You have such potential young Prowl, such talent and that processor of yours. I did not pay good credits on those upgrades just so you could waste them on crime writing and crime analysis.”

Prowl internally sighed - he wouldn’t dare do it audibly in front of his creator - and remembered why it was he hadn’t been in touch with his family for the last couple of vorns. It was always the same lecture. His creator had the unique ability of making him feel inexplicably like the awkward, self conscious youngling he once was. “Creator, I understand that but right now I--”

“--Right now, your place should be here. You should be by my side, you could be assistant chief in the Praxian enforcers by now. If only Primus hadn’t cursed you with your Sire’s stubbornness and useless creativity.”

Prowl was beginning to think that this had been a mistake. If only he had other options. Polihex enforcers may be corrupt but in Praxus, regulated under the unbending will of his creator, the commissioner of all Praxian enforcers, corruption was unheard of. It was someone, Prowl knew, without a doubt, he could trust. “Creator, your concerns for my career are noted and we can discuss them when I return home…”

“Which will be when, exactly? My funeral?”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched with irritation. “Do you have to be so petty?” he snapped, frustrated and very likely running out of time.

“Do not take that tone with me, youngling! I can and will destroy whatever career you think you have with a call, do you understand me?”

Deflating, not wanting to lose potentially the only ally he had, Prowl bowed his helm in silent submission.

“What was it you wanted? You stated this was urgent and I am a very busy mech.”

“There’s a situation. In Polihex. I can’t say too much right now but it’s getting dangerous. I think I have uncovered… something and someone does not want it to come to light.”

“Primus, Prowl, you are not one of your literary heroes.”

“This is serious, Creator, please. You are very likely the only one who can help me. I have sent you what concrete evidence I have. It will arrive in a few cycles, please I’m asking you for your help.” Prowl pressed his mouth into a thin line as his creator practically preened at that. It was the words he had longed for ever since Prowl had rebelled against his wishes and left home, determined to make a name for himself away from his creator’s far reaching influence and intimidation. “I also ask that you be careful, Creator, I fear that I could be in danger and if they find out what I’ve sent and to whom, you would be in danger as well.”

Prowl’s creator frowned at that. “What trouble have you gone and gotten yourself wrapped up in?”

“It’s complicated. Suffice to say, it’s going to get messier, very soon. The next time you hear about me, well… just please hold judgement until you receive my package,” Prowl hesitated, there wasn’t much in the way of affection lost between them but this could very well be the last time he got to speak with his creator. “Thank you for your guidance over the vorns, Creator, you have been… influential in my life.” he flared his doorwings and bowed his helm, thumbs touching the middle of his chevron, in traditional Praxian farewell between family members.

“Prowl…?”

The mech’s voice had almost sounded worried and confused as Prowl had cut the comm. call before he could say anything more. Time was of the essence, and it was time to call in some favours.

****

Sidewinder had searched everywhere for Prowl since learning he had left the hospital. He hadn’t even bothered to discharge himself. “Frag’s sake, Prowl,” he growled to himself. “What kind of fraggin’ mess are you getting me into.” He rifled through the datapads and files on Prowl’s desk and in his drawers. He had been told what to look for but now that Prowl had vanished, he knew he was on borrowed time. He had been told to stay close to the mech. It had sounded simple at first but everything had quickly gotten complicated.

The door opened and he looked up sharply, optics brightening in surprise. “Prowl? What are you doing here?”

Quirking an optic ridge at his assistant, Prowl acted as though nothing was wrong. “Last I checked this was my temporary office.”

“Well yeah but… where the frag have you been?” Sidewinder demanded hotly, changing tact, planting his hands on his hips.

“I was attacked, hospitalised and then I rested,” Prowl stated blandly. “Was I supposed to be somewhere?”

Sidewinder huffed indignantly and rubbed his faceplates. “I swear you’re trying to get me killed,” he muttered before pinning Prowl with another glare. “You checked out of the hospital, I had no idea where you were… I was worried.”

“Well, now you can see that I’m fine, so if I may ask, what are you doing in here?”

Sidewinder moved out from behind Prowl’s desk and shrugged. “Straight back to work eh?” he smirked. “I was looking for our case files on Jazz. The enforcers were asking questions you know about why you were there in the first place.”

Prowl hummed in acknowledgement, stealing a subtle appraising glance of his assistant. With Jazz’s warning fresh in his mind and with his risky and very probably reckless plan now put into motion, Sidewinder was not above suspicion. He had worked with Prowl for almost a vorn now but Prowl couldn’t risk bringing him on board with what he intended to do. The less that knew the better and it would only implicate him. If he had no knowledge then he couldn’t lie. Prowl did silently hope that he could trust him however. “Have you packed your things?” he asked offhandedly.

Sidewinder stared at him. “What… we’re not going to investigate this any further?”

“You did see what Jazz tried to do to me correct?” Prowl asked, fingers absently brushing over the weld line on his chest. “Does that strike you as the actions of an innocent mech?”

“Well, no but I thought--”

“--you thought wrong, Sidewinder. Pack your things, we’ll be leaving for Vos in two cycles,” Prowl declared as he sat down at his desk and began to sort through his datapads. “I still do have a real job as you’re so fond of pointing out,” he added dryly.

Sidewinder grinned. “Well I’m glad you’ve finally come round and started to talk some sense,” he clapped a hand on Prowl’s shoulder. “Meet me for a drink at the hotel tonight?”

“I’ll be there,” Prowl inclined his helm, optics focused on his files.

Sidewinder nodded and practically bounced out of his office. Closing the door behind him, he rested his helm against the wall, optics offlining for a klik and practically deflated with relief. “Thank Primus…” he whispered to himself, before composing himself and heading off to their hotel. Perhaps things wouldn’t end so badly after all.

****

//This is a fraggin’ mess! I’m paying you to clean this up not make it worse. Frag and being who he is, this could get me killed and I’d really prefer for that not to happen! We’ve got no choice… he’s got to be stopped. Quietly...//

Metasis hesitated before responding to his benefactor.  He had no qualms dealing with such matters but over the vorns he had learnt to give those holding the credits, chance to change their processors. This was his chosen career after all as opposed to something he felt he had to do. //What are your orders?//

//...He's not going to let this rest.//

//Indeed. His reputation proceeds him.//

The mech sighed heavily. //Get rid of him. This has gone on long enough. Dispose of Jazz too and anyone else involved. Make sure nobody asks questions again.//

//Consider it done.//

//And no indulgences this time. Your sickness is what caused this mess, don’t you forget it!//

Metasis glowered at the snarled comment over the comm. but he wisely chose not to respond. For the credits he was being paid, it was worth keeping his mouth shut.

//I don’t want to hear from you until it’s done.// the mech continued. //And make sure none of this can be traced back to me. If he finds out, it’ll be my spark.//

Metasis smirked at that. ‘He’ was referring to his former employer. Who was a ruthless, calculating mech who had once saved his benefactor’s aft - using Metasis’ services - from a very messy situation. As well as tidying up some of his own affairs in the process, before pushing ahead with his ambitious politically driven career. This, however, was crossing a line, even Metasis knew that much. Once the job was done and he’d been paid, he would disappear, assume a new identity, just as he had the first time. //It’ll be both our sparks.// he pointed out casually.

//Good. Then you understand there can be no theatrics this time?//

It was a rhetorical question that Metasis didn’t feel like answering. He merely grunted an acknowledgement. //If that’ll be all?//

//Yes. I hope this is the last time I ever have to speak to you.//

Metasis huffed a short humourless laugh as the comm. went dead. “That feeling is mutual,” he drawled, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he sharpened a crude, yet ornate looking blade. Taking a moment to ponder on what he planned to do next, he opened his comm. once more to touch base with his contact. //Will you see him?//

His smile widened at the response. //Make sure he takes it. Doesn’t matter if he’s no longer interested, he needs to be taught a lesson not to stick his nose in where it does not belong. I’ll be there.// He sighed and rolled his optics at the next comment. //Stop worrying. It will all be over soon and we can all go back to our lives. I promised I wouldn’t hurt him, didn’t I? I am a mech of my word.// Metasis cut the comm and hummed in approval as his blade reflected the dangerous glint of his optics. “Fool,” he uttered with a smirk.

 


	7. Breakout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it :)

Jazz listened to the noises of mechs in the adjacent and nearby cells. He hardly ever recharged when kept in general population. He’d already been involved in a brawl and killed his cell mate in self defence, for trying to rape him. Prison had made his spark cold and hard. He was merely a survivor now, though, he had to wonder as he stared up at the grey ceiling of his tiny cell, what he was surviving for. His thoughts drifted to the one mech he could have called a friend in this miserable place, Warpath. None of the guards would tell him anything. Jazz knew that if he’d survived the explosion caused by Metasis then he would be in danger. He vaguely regretted injuring Prowl but it was the only way to get him into the hospital and near Warpath, without potentially putting him in danger too. Jazz huffed at that. He had the distinct impression that if Prowl was in any danger he would not shy away from it. Not if he had dug deep enough into his case. Innocence, Jazz mused. Perhaps the mere fact that he was innocent was why Jazz held onto life.With that innocence there was an iota of hope. Hope that was slowly driving him insane while he was trapped in this Primus forsaken place.

A mild ruckus on one of the lower levels caught his attention and Jazz turned his helm to listen. His audio had always been sensitive. He had bought the upgrades to his adult frame with his first salary. A musician needed good audios. Seemed like a waste now. He tapped his fingers absently against his midriff as the noises changed and became more urgent. Pushing to sit up, he peered past the energy field locking him in and tilted his helm towards the sound. The sound was drawing closer, almost like a wave. He got up and walked slowly to the entrance of his cell, optics brightening behind his visor. One by one each level erupted into chaos. To Jazz’s optics it was almost beautiful.

Prisoners were out of their cells, enforcers were under attack and on the run. Power was failing across the prison but the guards were locked inside. Jazz canted his helm as he watched from inside his cell on the top most level. The outer defences of the prison had not yet been breached, only internal power had failed and only in some of the cells. A smirk tugged at one corner of Jazz’s mouth as his optics caught the pattern of release in the cells that went dark. A jailbreak.

Nobody had ever attempted a jailbreak in Polihex’s history. The prison had a ruthless reputation, rivalled only by the gulags in Kaon. It was nigh impossible to break out of and even if a prisoner succeeded in making it out to the perimeter, they would be shot on sight by automated drones that patrolled constantly, never needing to rest. Jazz shifted as the cell beside his went dark and the occupants fled as had all the others.

The alarm sounded and the prison activated lock down procedures. The enforcers now had backup. The rebellion would soon be quashed. Jazz touched his fingertips to the shimmering shield, gritting his denta as he willed it to deactivate. This was his only chance. He didn’t imagine he would get far but he deserved the chance to try. Yet the shield remained.

Clenching his fist in frustration, Jazz turned away and froze when the distinctive whine of a weapon powering up caught his audio. Optics brightening, he threw himself to the floor as the wall where his berth was erupted into a fireball of smoke, debris and semi molten metal. The noise of the blast left him reeling, his audio ringing painfully, his vision blurred from the shockwave that hit him.

“That one, grab him, let’s go,” a voice growled out. Jazz didn’t get chance to see who it was before he was hauled off his feet, thrown over the shoulder of a mech, and carried bodily out of his cell. He was unceremoniously dumped inside a container before he’d really registered what was happening. Not one to lie down and accept his fate, Jazz started to struggle and fight back.

“For frag’s sake!” another mech snarled before a fist collided with Jazz’s helm, crumpling him into the container with an anti-climatic grunt.

“We could’ve just told him we were here for him, you know,” the first mech pointed out as they exited the cell carrying the weapons’ container, their enforcer issue weapons slung over their shoulders.

“No time. Let’s just finish the job, get the slag out of here so I can get this slaggin’ paint job off me.”

“I think enforcer looks good on you,” the first mech nodded to a guard on the lower level as they clocked a brawling prisoner on the helm and shoved their way past. They were scanned and allowed to pass through the guard centre, their container was shielded from passive scans - a standard issue in weapon containers as some enforcer weapons could be triggered by scans when activated - and the two mechs could hardly believe the plan was working. “Maybe we should role play,” the first mech added deviously.

“Shut the frag up and concentrate would you?” The irritable mech countered.

“Stop! Open the crate.” An enforcer demanded behind them and the two mechs shared a glance.

The first one gave a lopsided grin to the second and armed his weapon. “So much for a smooth getaway.”

“He better fraggin’ pay us extra for this,” growled out the second mech, before he whirled around and launched himself at the startled enforcer with an animalistic snarl.

The guard centre was decimated as the two mechs worked seamlessly as a pair. They incapacitated the guards and the angry mech held his weapon to the helm of one when the first mech called out to him. “It’s done. No killing or we don’t get paid, remember?”

Growling, the second mech pulled the weapon back and instead smashed it into the guard’s faceplates, knocking him out. “We’re leaving now!”

“And it was just getting good,” the first mech quipped dryly as they hauled their still untouched container out of the guard centre and quietly shut the door behind them, heading to the next security check before passing through the prison and out through the back loading entrance. With almost all the enforcers concentrating on containing the prisoners and thanks to their disguises, they were barely given a second glance.

The two mechs walked a short distance to where they’d left their hired transport and loaded the container inside. The second mech poured a solvent all over himself and sighed with relief as black and white plating seemed to melt from his frame, revealing the gold plating beneath it.

“Couldn’t wait huh?”

“Shut it, Sides’. We split up. Meet you at the rendezvous. I’ll let him know it’s done.”

The still black and white mech nodded and slid into the pilot seat of his transport. “Be seein’ you, Sunny.”

“Don’t call me that,” the partially golden mech muttered sullenly as he transformed and hovered before accelerating away from the scene. Kliks later the transport took off in the opposite direction narrowly avoiding the sudden searching beams of light sweeping out from the prison towers as alerts warning of escaped prisoners rang out across Polihex.

****

Prowl stared at the container in the middle of his new hotel room - he had slyly switched shortly after getting out of hospital - and then looked up at the two mechs glaring at him expectantly. “That’s a weapon’s crate,” he stated incredulously.

Sideswipe shrugged. “You just said get him out, you didn’t specify how.”

“Be grateful he’s not in pieces,” Sunstreaker added sullenly.

Flicking his doorwings at that, Prowl raised an optic ridge at the twins. “Thank you, I think. Could you open it?”

“Oh, right,” Sideswipe fiddled with the lock until the lid popped open. He stepped back quickly as Jazz shot out of the box and launched himself at the nearest mech, which just so happened to be Prowl. “Uh, should we help him?” he asked his brother hesitantly.

Sunstreaker merely quirked an optic ridge and folded his arms. “He hasn’t paid us for the first thing he asked us to help him with yet.”

“Jazz!” Prowl called out, his arms up in defence as the frantic mech scratched and clawed at his plating. He struggled to hold him off long enough for Jazz to focus.

Jazz froze and stared at Prowl. “What the frag?” he looked back at the twins, frowning when the red one grinned and waved at him before getting swatted by the angry golden one. “You did this?!” he turned back to Prowl, disbelief evident in his voice and on his face.

“Yes, now as much as this would be appealing under different circumstances, the last time you straddled me you almost stabbed me in the spark so if you please… get off,” Prowl responded quickly, keeping his arms braced, in case Jazz really was crazy and he had gotten all of this entirely wrong.

Jazz complied, not missing the appealing comment and slowly stood. Graciously he offered a hand to Prowl, who silently accepted. “You broke me out? Why?”

Prowl fluffed his doorwings as he brushed himself off. “I would’ve thought that was obvious.”

“Yeah, glitch is crazy if you haven’t noticed,” Sideswipe piped up.

Quirking an optic ridge at Sideswipe, Prowl gestured to a nearby seat for Jazz. “Thank you for that, Sideswipe,” he commented wryly.

“Anytime,” the red mech grinned shamelessly.

“Jazz,” Prowl started as he sat down. “I went to see Warpath, in the hospital.”

“Yeah, I know where he is,” Jazz replied tersely, not taking the offered seat. “How is he?”

“He’s been better I’m sure, but recovering slowly. It was your intention for me to speak with him was it not?”

Jazz smirked faintly. “Wasn’t sure you picked up on that hint in the prison. You’re a blank slate, mech.”

Sideswipe snorted from his now sprawled position over the plush sofa bed in the corner of the room. “When we met him, we thought he was a drone, seriously,” he smirked at Jazz. “You get used to reading doorwing though.”

“Anyway,” Prowl interrupted throwing a look at Sideswipe, “he warned me that you were in danger and that it was the mech you called Metasis that had planted the bomb in the prison. Despite your attack upon me, I was inclined to believe him. I do believe you’re innocent, Jazz and I intend to prove it.”

Jazz stared at him for a few kliks before he started laughing. It began as a soft chuckle and continued until he had to sit down because his intakes were wheezing from the strain of laughing too hard.

The twins glanced at each other and at Prowl who simply looked confused. “Uh, Sunny… think you might’ve punched him too hard in the head,” Sideswipe murmured to his now frowning twin.

Jazz held up his hand and attempted to calm himself as he sagged against the chair. “You intend to prove it huh?” he gazed at Prowl with a mixture of bemusement and incredulity. “Seven vorns, a whole team of lawyers and a mech’s entire life savings couldn’t prove it but you’re just going to set all the wrongs to rights, all by your pretty self, hm? Forgive me if I sound…mm, what’s the word?”

“Amazed, impressed, flattered?” Sideswipe offered casually.

“Homicidal?” Sunstreaker added dryly.

“Critical, let’s go with that, for now,” Jazz replied. “Prowl, I’m sure you mean well but how the frag are you going to prove what someone clearly doesn’t want proven? Someone who has some pull by the way and we’re not just talking witnesses and prison guards here. Enforcers, judges, media, and Metasis has got to be working for someone with some long fragging strings. You’re just a fraggin’ crime analyst, no offence.”

“None taken,” Prowl replied easily.

“It’s not what you know, it’s who you know,” Sunstreaker pointed out, giving Prowl a sidelong glance. “And Prowl knows some pretty powerful mechs.”

Sideswipe huffed. “Yeah has fragged off a few too.”

Jazz frowned. “I got to say, I’m skeptical. This is my future on the line and you’re asking me to trust the entirety of it to you.”

Doorwings flicked up a little higher as Prowl regarded Jazz coolly. “A future that did not exist until approximately half a cycle ago,” he pointed out softly.

“Ouch,” Jazz flinched at the reminder and scowled, sitting back in his chair, arms folded. “Alright, you got me, I’m listening.”

“Sideswipe is correct. I have… connections and I have sent what evidence I have to them for proper investigation. An investigation that would this time be free from corruption.”

“You did get copies of this evidence before you sent it right?” Jazz asked with vague concern.

“Of course,” Prowl responded with mild indignation. “It was only prudent. I plan on delivering the copies in person to a friend of mine, who I know has the authority to straighten this mess out.”

“Prowl,” Sideswipe raised his hand and frowned a little. “Do you really think a mech pushing his political career up the Prime path is going to want to associate and involve himself with someone who just broke all the laws? Besides the election is only a few cycles away, mech’s going to be pretty busy don’t you think?”

Frowning, Prowl shook his helm. “Optimus was my friend and an enforcer before he became a candidate for Prime. He will listen. I am sure of it, and absolving an innocent mech of a crime he did not commit and saving him from a lifetime in prison wouldn't be a terrible way to start his primacy.”

Sideswipe snorted, "Assuming he wins."

“This might be one favour too much,” Sunstreaker suggested quietly.

“I have to try,” Prowl insisted.

“How?” Jazz asked, optics flitting between Prowl and the two mechs. They didn’t seem like the type of mechs to put their necks out for anyone so he had to wonder what it was that Prowl had on them, what they owed him. Now wasn’t the time for that question however and he filed it away to ask at a later time.

“I’ll deliver it in person.”

“Alright and what do I do in the mean time, hide out here? Pretty sure they’re going to turn the city upside down looking for me. I’m assuming if he’s on the Prime ladder, he’s based in Iacon. I guarantee that I’ll be dead before you get half way there.”

Prowl pulled a face and gave Jazz a ‘don’t be so glitched look’. “Impossible.”

“Oh, really, you’re so sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” Prowl responded confidently.

Sideswipe snickered at the complete disbelief and irritation evident on Jazz’s face.

Jazz rubbed his helm as a processor ache started to form. “Ok, I’ll bite, why?” he asked with growing exasperation when Prowl didn’t offer any further explanation.

“Because, you will be coming to Iacon with me.”

Jazz’s optics blanked and his mouth fell open with no appropriate response. He was surrounded by crazy mechs. He was slagged. He stared at Prowl incredulously as the Praxian gazed at him patiently, expectantly. He shook his helm and leaned forward, putting his helm in his hands as he muttered to himself. “We’re all going to die.”

Sideswipe snickered. “Told you he wasn’t going to like it. And he’s probably right about the dying,” he added tactlessly with a cheerful grin.

Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge at Prowl. “If he dies, that’s on you,” he stated bluntly. “And it’s not coming off the price.”

Prowl pursed his lip components with irritation. “Primus, Sunstreaker! Thank you very much for your vote of confidence and support, it’s good to know where your priorities are. And Sideswipe, do you think you could you at least pretend to be tactful?”

Sunstreaker shrugged nonchalantly. “Mech’s got to refuel. Energon isn’t free.”

Sideswipe laughed. “Don’t you remember how we met, Prowl? Tactful isn’t exactly our style.”

“Yeah, if we had been tactful or supportive, we wouldn’t be here, waiting to get paid,” Sunstreaker added pointedly.

“Oh for Primus’ sake, here!” Prowl handed over the credit chit with exasperation. “We’re even.”

Sunstreaker’s face almost cracked a smile as he accepted the chit and checked it. “It’s all here. Let’s go, Sides’. Nice doing business with you, Prowl. Hope to never see you again.”

“Though, try not to get dead or anything,” Sideswipe added with a hard clap on Prowl’s shoulder as he followed his twin.

Jazz stared after them, still not too sure whether or not this was a drug induced hallucination after ending up in the prison medbay again. “How did you meet them?”

Prowl sighed and shook his helm. “It’s a long story.” he frowned when Sunstreaker suddenly shoved Sideswipe back inside the room and cautiously pushed the door to almost closed.

“Shhh!” he hissed, peering out of the room.

“What is it?” Prowl asked, only for the golden twin to wave dismissively at him.

Sideswipe frowned and waited as Sunstreaker carefully, discreetly closed the door and activated all the locks. “So you know how you said you’d changed rooms but wanted to keep an optic on things in yours?” he whispered turning back around to meet Prowl’s gaze. At Prowl’s nod, he continued. “Well… your assistant just got shoved inside by a rather angry looking mech, purplish, big. Know anyone by that description?”

“No I can’t--”

“--Did he have a black helm with uhm… a blue crest?”

Sunstreaker looked at Jazz. “Yeah, sound familiar?”

Jazz nodded and rubbed his face, his tank churning as he gritted his denta and looked up at Prowl with a grim expression barely containing his rage. “That’s Metasis.”

Prowl’s optics brightened in surprise, then he looked up sharply. “I was supposed to meet Sidewinder for a drink, I told him we were leaving.”

Sideswipe growled and clenched his fists. “Looks like he brought you a leaving present.”

“He wouldn’t,” Prowl shook his helm. “He is naive but not a criminal. Certainly not what you’re implying,” he started when he felt a touch to his arm and looked Jazz in the visor, the mech having moved silently to stand beside him.

“If Metasis has gotten to him, trust me, he’ll do anything just to stop whatever he’s threatened to do to him. That mech is the spawn of Unicron.”

“Then he’s in danger,” Prowl declared, doorwings flaring out as he made for the door.

Jazz grabbed him and pulled him back. “You can’t, Metasis will do more than kill you. You can guarantee he already knows about the jailbreak, and you’re the one he’s going to come looking for. He’ll pin this on you, Prowl and then get creative in watching you die but make it look like you took your own life.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Who the frag do you think did the crime that I’m paying for?”

Prowl scowled. “I cannot leave Sidewinder to the mercies of that mech then, if he is indeed what you say he is. If I don’t show up, what will happen to him?”

Jazz fell silent and frowned as Prowl tugged his arm free.

“As I suspected,” Prowl continued turning and heading for the door, only for the twins to block his path.

“This is dumb, Prowl.”

“Even for you,” Sunstreaker added. “Since you helped put us on the straight and narrow, you really think we’re going to let you walk out of here and commit suicide?”

“Sidewinder is innocent!” Prowl snarled out in frustration.

“And I wasn’t?” Jazz remarked softly, more to himself than to Prowl.

“And are you absolutely sure about that? He did bring that mech here to meet you,” Sideswipe pointed out somewhat sympathetically.

Prowl gestured at them in exasperation. “Then what would you have me do?”

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared a glance, communicating silently over their twin bond before they both pinned Prowl with equally menacing gazes and deadly smirks.

 


	8. Starstruck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz learns about Prowl's alter-ego

Sidewinder looked up sharply as the door burst open and two clearly over charged mechs tumbled through with laughter and playful punching. 

“You should have seen his face!” the red one chortled, before the golden one smacked his arm, noticing the two mechs stood in the apartment. 

“Who the frag are you?” Sunstreaker growled threateningly.

“Who are we? Who are you?” Sidewinder asked, throwing a furtive glance at Metasis who simply glowered at the intruders. 

“This is our fraggin’ room!” Sideswipe threw back at him. “Bought and paid for so we’ll ask again, just who the frag are you?” 

“Your room?” Sidewinder frowned deeply. “That’s impossible this is my employer’s room, he’ll be here any klik now.”

“I don’t think so,” Sunstreaker retorted holding up the key and receipt for the room. 

Metasis snatched it out of Sunstreaker’s hand, ignoring the golden mech’s protests. His optics narrowed and he crushed the receipt pad in his hand. “He knows you idiot, he’s given you the slip,” he snarled at Sidewinder who visibly shrank beneath his gaze. 

“Hey now, there’s no need for arguing, it’s an easy mistake,” Sideswipe interrupted cheerfully. 

“Shut it, guttermech,” Metasis snapped, his gaze fixed on Sidewinder. “I’m just going to have to send a message.”

Sidewinder shook his helm frantically and backed away from Metasis as he approached. “I didn’t know I swear, why would he?”

“Okay, that’s rude,” Sideswipe feigned indignation. 

“I hate rude mechs,” Sunstreaker uttered through clenched denta.  “Hey bulldozer,” Sunstreaker called out, stopping Metasis in his advance on a now frightened looking Sidewinder. “How about you apologise to my brother here huh?”

Metasis glared at Sunstreaker. “You two need to leave before I extend my message to you,” he turned back to Sidewinder and grabbed him roughly. “You’re coming with me.”

“No… please…”

“Hey, he said no and I want an apology,” Sideswipe stepped forward, grabbing Metasis’ arm and yanking him back. The punch came around so fast that Sideswipe was on his aft before he’d even realised he’d been hit. 

“Sides!” Sunstreaker was by his side in a klik. “You’re going to pay for that,” he growled before launching himself at Metasis sending them crashing into the wall and down to the floor. 

Shaking his helm and resetting his optics, Sideswipe got to his feet and grabbed Sidewinder and shoved him towards the door. “Get the frag out of here,” he hissed. “He’s waiting for you.” 

Sidewinder merely stared at the red mech in frightened confusion before he was shoved bodily towards the exit. He only stuck around long enough to see the red mech leap onto the back of Metasis. He sprinted from the room, almost falling over his own feet in the process. Scrambling up he felt a hand steady him and tug him towards the elevator. Glancing up his optics brightened in surprise. “Prowl?” 

“Ssshh! Not here,” Prowl hissed, racing for the elevator as the noise of the fight got louder.

Sidewinder was bundled into the elevator and froze when he saw Jazz getting into it with them. “He’s… Prowl, he’s… you’re….”

Jazz smirked at Prowl. “Got a bright one there, Prowler,” he murmured wryly. 

“This is all your fault!” Sidewinder suddenly snarled and lunged for Jazz who was taken by surprise and knocked to the floor. The scuffle was frenzied and chaotic and Prowl only managed to get himself injured as Jazz pulled out a crude looking knife, he’d fashioned when inside his prison cell. 

Clutching at his middle, he grabbed Jazz’s arm as the mech got the upper hand and was about to kill his assistant. “Stop!”

Jazz stilled his vents hitched before he pushed off of Sidewinder and stepped back. “He attacked me, what do you expect me to do, stand there?” 

“I expect you not to solve all your problems by killing!” Prowl returned angrily. 

Jazz shrugged, visor flickering faintly as he tucked the knife away. He noticed the energon on the blade and looked down at Sidewinder as Prowl helped him to his feet. “You’re hurt…” he stated simply.

“I’m fine, no thanks to the psychopath I’m trapped in an elevator with,” Sidewinder muttered sullenly. 

Jazz ignored him and moved over to Prowl’s side, turning him around and whistling when he saw the line of energon now staining Prowl’s midriff.

Prowl shook his helm. “It’s not serious, I’ll be fine.”

“Need to stop the bleeding, otherwise Metasis will just follow the energon trail right to us,” Jazz pointed out. 

Sidewinder shuffled side to side. “There’s a medkit in reception, for the staff. I used to work in a place like this.” 

Jazz nodded. “We grab it and then we run.”

“Those mechs up there?” Sidewinder looked at Prowl questioningly. “You sent them.”

“They sort of volunteered.”

“He’s going to kill them,” Sidewinder murmured dejectedly. 

Jazz snorted. “You only just figure that out Hot Shot, and what exactly did you think he was going to do to Prowl?”

“I was trying to help him stay away from the likes of you!” Sidewinder shot back. “He was just going to scare you,” he directed at Prowl a little more softly. 

“The twins can handle themselves, I have every faith they’ll be able to meet us at the rendezvous.” Prowl’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “And we’ll talk about this later,” he uttered tersely at Sidewinder. 

Jazz smirked and folded his arms. “You’re in trouble now,” he fixed his unwavering gaze onto Sidewinder who sneered at him and turned away. Jazz’s smirk faded into something darker. He didn’t trust that mech no matter who he was to Prowl and he didn’t believe he was entirely innocent either. Anyone involved with Metasis was bad news and Jazz would not be convinced otherwise.

*****

**Inner city border of Polihex**

Jazz had been unable to transform due to his stint in the prison so when the three mechs had finally stopped running, Sidewinder had all but collapsed to the floor in a heap. Jazz, admittedly,  wasn’t far behind him and lowered himself to the ground gingerly. His body wasn’t used to such a work out. Prowl, Jazz noted with mild resentment, seemed to be faring pretty well. His intakes at least didn’t sound like someone was shearing metal with a grinder. 

“We need to keep moving,” Jazz declared, reluctantly pushing his aching frame to standing.

“You’re in no fit state to right now,” Prowl pointed out, placing a hand on Jazz’s arm to steady him as he glanced back in the direction they’d come. He had heard nothing from the twins and hoped they had made it out okay. 

“We just ran clear across the city, I think we’re fine for the klik,” Sidewinder added sarcastically, from his slumped position on the ground of an old, disused slag recycling plant, near to the border of Polyhex. 

Jazz growled and jerked away from Prowl roughly. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with! That mech isn’t going to stop until we’re all in the pit. We keep moving or we die, got it?” he snapped at Sidewinder, who merely glared at him in sullen silence.

“Jazz you need to rest your systems are not up to the strain,” Prowl insisted with a frown.

“I’m fine, but I fraggin’ won’t be if Metasis catches up to us. In case you forgot, the fragger can transform.”

Prowl’s doorwings twitched slightly at that and he relented. “Alright, we keep moving, we walk though, otherwise we’re just going to draw more attention to ourselves.”

Jazz did not reply and immediately set off in the direction of the main highway exit from the city state. 

“Jazz, where are you going?” Prowl called out. 

“I’m walking, like you said.”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

Jazz stopped and stared at Prowl with irritation. “We’re leaving the city, I think I know my way around my home and unless they have moved it, the exit is that way,” he pointed a finger behind him. 

Prowl shook his helm and approached Jazz. “He will be expecting us to use the main gate to the city.”

“I don’t see any other exits making themselves known, Prowl,” Jazz folded his arms and glared at the Praxian. 

“There are the tunnels reserved for VIPs,” Sidewinder pointed out as he too stood and walked over to stand beside Prowl. 

“What?” 

“Sidewinder is indeed correct. They are guarded and kept hidden to allow guests into the city, privacy and security away from the main populace,” Prowl explained. “It is our best chance of losing Metasis.”

Jazz scowled at the both of them, were they being deliberately dense or was it just a matter of course? “In case you glitches have forgotten, I am a wanted fugitive. You just mentioned guards, who I’m pretty sure will be up on current events. You might as well hand me to Metasis on a fraggin’ silver platter.”

Prowl scoffed indignantly and his doorwings rose a little higher on his back. “Jazz, please give me some credit, you will be disguised accordingly.”

Offlining his optics and venting a sigh as he tried to gather the remaining shreds of his already thin patience, Jazz took a klik before responding. “And you’re just going to waltz in there unchallenged, I presume?”

Prowl gave Jazz a small knowing smirk that left the visored mech wondering, once again, if the Praxian was simply just insane. 

“We are. Just as we have always done.”

****

Jazz squirmed as the paint was brushed over his plating. They hadn’t had the time to obtain colour changing nanites for him, so he was being disguised the good old fashioned way. He had kicked up one mighty fuss when it looked like Sidewinder might be doing the painting but thankfully, Prowl had stepped up and was working as quickly as he could, while still adhering to detail. “You nearly done?” he groused with a curl of his mouth. Silver and purple was not his colour. 

“Almost,” Prowl replied quietly, focusing intently on Jazz’s back plating. 

“We should take off the visor to,” Sidewinder pointed out. “It stands out too much.” 

“Frag you,” Jazz erupted immediately only for Prowl to squeeze his arm.

“He’s right, Jazz, a modification like yours isn’t common. Even with the paint change, you will still be recognisable.”

Jazz huffed and glared at Sidewinder. “It’s not a modification. I need it… to see.” 

Prowl stopped at that and circled Jazz until he was standing in front of him. “You’re blind?”

With a slight shake of his helm, Jazz pursed his lips. “Not completely. Colours and hues are confusing and way way too bright, depth perception is shot, causes massive processor aches.”

“You were sparked with this condition?”

Giving Prowl a wry smile, Jazz shook his helm. “Courtesy of my stay in prison. When you’re attacked, they don’t really have the proper resources to fix you up to standard. The medics did what they could and gave me a visor to correct the rest,” he shrugged a shoulder. “You get used to it, it’s not so bad and makes me harder to read so I’d say that was a plus.”

Prowl’s optics dimmed slightly and he bowed his helm as he put the paintbrush into the paint. “I am sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, slag happens. Are you done?” Jazz asked, brushing off Prowl’s sympathy and inspecting his plating. 

“Yes, it isn’t perfect but it will do until we reach safety.”

Jazz nodded and looked between the two mechs. “Now how about you two, please tell me I get to paint one of you orange?” he grinned deviously.

Sidewinder snerked and raised an optic ridge. “I don’t need to change and Prowl has nanites. Why don’t you show him?” he glanced at Prowl with a knowing smile. 

Prowl sighed. “Well, I suppose you were going to find out about this, sooner or later,” he declared and offlined his optics as he accessed his nanites. The colour change wasn’t instantaneous and gradually crept over his black and white frame. 

Jazz watched with growing realisation and by the time Prowl’s transformation had finished, his mouth was hanging open in disbelief. 

“Jazz? Are you alright?” Prowl canted his helm at him quizzically. 

Taking in the swirling midnight blue-purple tint of Prowl’s frame that seemed to sparkle like distant galaxies and shimmered as he shifted under the room’s light, Jazz was honestly annoyed he hadn’t seen it sooner. The frame shape, the distinctive upward curve at the edge of his doorwings, that brilliant white chevron, crowning his dark helm and those shining golden optics, it had been in front of him this entire time and he hadn’t even looked twice. 

“You definitely broke him this time,” Sidewinder smirked at Jazz’s stunned reaction. 

“Jazz?” Prowl prompted uncertainly again, growing a little concerned by the intensity of Jazz’s gaze.

“Well, frag me sideways,” Jazz finally declared, grinning at Prowl. “Would love it if I could um… have your autograph and your frequency code,” he shamelessly held out his datapad that he’d tucked beneath his plating. It was the one Prowl had gifted him with all of the Isotron Quartz book files stored on it. “Isotron, rescuing me from prison aside, I might just be your biggest fan.”

Prowl could only laugh modestly and duck his helm somewhat embarrassed as he accepted the datapad and gave a beaming Jazz his long sought after autograph.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays everybody. I hope you enjoy this :3


	9. Obstacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go according to plan.

**Security checkpoint**  
**Polihex private transport system**

“Now just stay close to me, let Sidewinder do all the talking and… here,” Prowl slowly unclipped Jazz’s visor and pulled it free from his face. He gazed with bright optics into pearlescent white optics.

“What?” Jazz prompted when Prowl didn’t move for a klik.

Averting his gaze, Prowl sub-spaced Jazz’s visor and carefully took his hand to curl it about his arm. “Your optics, have they always been that colour?”

Jazz gave Prowl a sad smile. “Nah… used to be blue just like yours. Damage removed most of the optical sensors, which is why they’re not a solid colour any more. There’s some blue in there, it depends what I’m looking at though, mostly they’re just white with shimmers of other colours.”

Prowl nodded in understanding and lightly patted Jazz’s arm linked through his own. “Perhaps we can look to getting them repaired once this is over,” he suggested leading Jazz to the exit of the private transport they were on.

“Need credits for slag like that, Pro… I mean Isotron.”

Prowl smirked faintly. “We have arrived at the security checkpoint leading out of the city. You are my companion, your name is Shimmer. You were originally from Polihex but now live in Iacon and you came to visit family ahead of us.”

“Did you just make all that up?” Jazz asked with a smirk of his own.

“It is on my character sheet. I have simply not had the opportunity to use it yet,” Prowl smiled at Jazz before realising that he probably couldn’t see it. “How do you see us?” he asked curiously.

Humming thoughtfully, Jazz looked towards where Sidewinder was standing. “He’s like a red smudge with other weird colours that blend into the background,” he looked at Prowl and smiled. “You look like star light filling a black hole. Can’t really make out much detail but at this distance I can see your face.”

Prowl didn't get chance to respond and tightened his grasp on Jazz as the doors swished open and they stepped out onto the security platform. “Remember don’t say anything unless you are spoken to directly, I will squeeze your hand like this to let you know when they are,” Prowl whispered softly, following his assistant off the transport.

Four burly security mechs stood and greeted Sidewinder amicably, they grinned when they saw Prowl and started regaling him with how much they enjoyed his novels. Jazz remained quiet until he felt Prowl squeeze his hand.

“And who is this? Do you have your documents, Sir?”

“Yeah, sure, they’re with Sidewinder,” Jazz replied easily, as Prowl as instructed him to do. Sidewinder handed over a datapad with his fabricated identification documents on it.

“What is your name, civilian?”

“Shimmer.”

“Place of origin?”

“Polihex. Here to visit family.”

The enforcers checked and rechecked the data until they were satisfied and handed the datapad back to Sidewinder. “Isotron, we’re glad to see you have a companion, but it is not customary for civilians to use these transports unless prior authorisation is given.”

Prowl frowned and shook his helm. “I do apologise. That oversight was mine, I simply thought it would be simpler for him to travel home to Iacon with me as we do now reside together.”

“Oh I didn’t know it was serious,” the other enforcer piped up, eager for some gossip. “I’m happy to let this go, this time… on the condition….” he glanced at his colleague.

The other enforcer grinned and nodded.

“What condition?” Prowl prompted, somewhat impatiently, they were on borrowed time after all.

“Could we possibly get your autograph?”

Sidewinder quirked an optic ridge at that and shook his helm. Some mechs were simply incorrigible but Prowl had never said no to a request yet. He quite frequently simply gave his autograph and image capture away for free.

Prowl obliged both enforcers and even let them take an image capture with him, before he bade them goodbye. “Let’s go, quickly,” he stated, taking hold of Jazz’s hand once more and leading him to the next shuttle out of the city.

An explosion rocked the tunnels behind them and sent them all to the floor in a heap. Prowl looked behind him, his spark pulsing hard. One enforcer had been killed and the others injured. “Go!” he yelled to Sidewinder who helped Jazz to his feet and staggered back onto the waiting shuttle.

“Prowl, behind you!”

Getting to his feet, Prowl spun and his intakes hitched as another mech emerged from the debris. “Primus, how did he…?”

“No time,” Sidewinder was by his side in an instant, interrupting him as he dragged him back onto the shuttle. Shoving Prowl inside, he pounded the door close button as Metasis lunged forward. His bulk slammed into the side of the shuttle and his powerful fist dented the door before the shuttle’s automatic controls took over and they accelerated away from the snarling mech.

Sidewinder sank down in a seat his gaze meeting Prowl’s. “That was close.”

“Hm, too close,” Prowl stated, handing Jazz his visor back.

“How did he know to look here?” Jazz asked pointedly.

Sidewinder visibly flinched and shrank into his seat. “I was just trying to help,” he murmured quietly. “I didn’t know what he was… who he was…”

Prowl bristled and glared at his assistant. “Sidewinder… what did you do?”

****

**Secondary transport line**  
**Entering Silica Flats**

Jazz sat at one end of the transport carriage listening to the argument at the other end of the carriage. Prowl and Sidewinder had been arguing almost since they had narrowly escaped Metasis' clutches. It had started quietly enough but had rapidly spiralled out of control as the two mechs had gotten more personal. Now they were practically yelling at each other. It was intense and uncomfortable but it still beat prison.

“What did you think was going to happen?!” Prowl yelled out with frustration.

“Oh I don’t know, that you would actually see some sense and not give in to your Primus’ forsaken urge to save every sob story that crosses your path!” Sidewinder shot back.

“You expected me to just leave him in there?”

“You’re not getting it, Prowl. I didn’t care what happened to him. It didn’t matter to me!”

“Does anything matter to you except yourself, Sidewinder?” Prowl snapped back.

“You matter to me!”

Prowl recoiled as though he had been slapped and stared at Sidewinder in shock.

Sidewinder shook his helm and let out a short humourless laugh. “Not that you ever looked past your own nose to notice that. I knew you digging around where you didn’t belong would only get you in trouble.”

“The only trouble we’re in now is because of you,” Prowl retorted almost petulantly. “You’re the one with the subplating tracker implanted onto your person that you can’t remove. You’re the one who agreed to help Metasis and probably signed all of our death warrants.”

Sidewinder glared at Prowl. “Well if it helps you recharge better, you keep telling yourself that.”

“It’s the truth!”

“I have already apologised a hundred times, what more do you want from me, Prowl?” Sidewinder shouted back. “I’m sorry I’m not a poor pathetic ‘bot in need of rescuing but everything I’ve done is because I wanted to help you. I fragged up, okay?”

Prowl’s doorwings flared as they rose on his back. “No it’s not okay, Sidewinder. You keep saying you did this for me, that you care, that I matter, but I never asked you to do any of this. I never led you on. You let your infatuations impair your judgement and now we have a lunatic chasing after us, who very likely won’t stop until we’re all dead!”

“Well I guess that makes two of us then! You just can’t help butting in and forcing your help on those that didn’t ask for it! You get obsessed and you don’t even see it! I couldn’t compete with the twins and I sure as pit can’t compete with him. You want to be a hero, I just wanted to be fragging noticed!”

“All this because of jealousy? Very mature, Sidewinder,” Prowl folded his arms, his tone clipped and sardonic.

“Oh because you’re so perfect, Prowl,” Sidewinder scoffed. “Go frag yourself.” he turned away from Prowl and started to march towards one of the empty carriages, only for Prowl to grab his arm and pull him back.

“I’m not done!”

Jazz’s visor flickered in surprise at the speed of Sidewinder’s reactions. His fist struck Prowl’s face with enough force to put the mech on his aft. Prowl hadn’t even seen it coming.

“Yes you are,” Sidewinder growled out, shaking his now hurting hand. He stalked out of the carriage and slammed the door between them, leaving Prowl on the floor staring after him.

Sauntering over to Prowl, Jazz offered his hand and helped Prowl to his feet, handing him a rag for the energon on his face. “Could have gone better.”

Prowl gave Jazz a pointed look and huffed, before sitting himself down. “Emotions are not my forte,” he murmured, wiping his face gingerly.

“You’re telling me,” Jazz replied easily, sitting down beside him. “Sounds like he’s been harbouring feelings for you for a while.”

Sensor panels lowering, Prowl glanced at the closed door. “I am not certain, I suspected but... “

“You never asked,” Jazz finished.

“He is my assistant, it would have been improper,” Prowl protested weakly. He looked down at his hands in his lap. “I thought if I ignored it, it would go away, he would stop…”

“Feeling?”

“I messed up,” Prowl admitted dejectedly.

Jazz nodded with some sympathy. “Yeah you did. We all do. Look who I almost bonded to,” he pointed out with a grin, nudging Prowl. “Can still fix it,” he added gently.

Prowl sighed. “I should go and speak to him.”

“Maybe not right now, but yeah probably. You know at least before Metasis kills us all,” Jazz replied casually.

“What do I say?” Prowl looked at Jazz expectantly.

“Well you’re talking to a fugitive so don’t expect nuggets of wisdom here,” Jazz laughed softly gazing at Prowl. “Sorry is always a good place to start though.”

****

Prowl didn’t know when he had slipped into recharge but he had somehow ended up with his helm resting against Jazz’s shoulder. The mech hadn’t had the spark to disturb him and had at some point slipped into recharge himself. Carefully moving away making sure not to disturb Jazz, Prowl glanced at the carriage where Sidewinder was located. Mustering up the courage he got up and opened the door closing it quietly behind him. He found Sidewinder passed out on one of the makeshift berths. He didn’t want to wake him, they all needed the rest so he sat on one of the adjacent seats, his optics gazing out of the window of the transport.

Sidewinder stirred a short time later and he silently watched Prowl, the mech having drifted off into light recharge at the window. Sitting up he sighed, regret rushing through him. He had said some hurtful, resentful things. He wasn’t sure if things would ever be the same between them but he would take salvaging what little they had of a friendship if it were possible.

Prowl jerked awake suddenly with a gasp, images of Metasis filling his over-clocked processor. “Sidewinder, I apologise I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured, averting his optics.

“You didn’t. Bad recharge?” he asked quietly.

Prowl gave a flick of his wings in a Praxian version of a shrug. “Just worrying, Metasis, everything.”

Sidewinder nodded. “Yeah. Me too. You think the twins made it?”

“If anybot did, they did,” Prowl replied. “I wanted to… that is if you were willing to listen… I would like to… frag I’m not good at this,” he swore softly, much to Sidewinder’s mild amusement.

“Whatever it is just say it, Prowl,” he gave him a wry smile. “I don’t think you can make it worse.”

Prowl’s sensor panels dropped a little at that and he nodded. “I am sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter. We both said some things… let’s just leave i--”

“--No. I am sorry for not noticing and when I did finally notice, treating it as an inconvenience. It was selfish and inconsiderate of me, Sidewinder. I do care about you and it was wrong of me to make you feel so…”

“Unimportant?”

Prowl nodded his helm with a soft sigh. “Can you forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Prowl. I knew the mech you were when I took this job. I’ve just been a glitch, hoping I can be the one to change you when you never needed changing,” he rubbed his faceplates wearily. “And now I’ve gone and gotten us into a right mess all because I got jealous. It’s me who should be asking for your forgiveness.”

“We will fix it when we get to Iacon,” Prowl insisted. “Besides, you couldn’t possibly have known tha--”

Prowl’s words were cut off as a painful shrieking of grinding, tearing metal filled the carriage and the transport suddenly lurched back with such force that both mechs were thrown from their seats. The transport careened off the magna-rails uncontrollably and it tore their carriage in half.

Sidewinder managed to grab hold of a metal rail attached to the wall as the carriage turned and flipped over.

Prowl cried out as he was flung backwards, his fingers clawing at whatever he could reach in an attempt to stop him being thrown from the ruined carriage to his death.

Seeing Prowl slipping towards the gaping opening, Sidewinder let go of his hand hold and reached for Prowl, managing to grab his hand as they were thrown about the carriage like rag dolls.

Another explosion filled their audios with ringing and the carriage tumbled at dizzying speeds before finally juddering to a halt. It teetered precariously on the edge of a cliff. It had carved a scar through the silica dunes, only to finally stop just before tumbling into the rust sea below.

Both carriages were damaged beyond repair but the first one was the only charred and half destroyed by incendiary fire. Metasis had somehow managed to plant a bomb on the departing transport but luckily for the three mechs, on only one of the carriages. As a result once the transport slid to a stop, Jazz grunted and shoved metal debris from his frame. He climbed out of the wreck of the second carriage and peered over to the first.

“Prowl! Sidewinder!” he called out, cautiously making his way through the wreckage to the first carriage.

“Jazz!” Sidewinder’s voice rang out from inside the carriage. “Help! Prowl’s trapped, I can’t get him out!”

Moving faster, Jazz threw debris aside as he climbed down into the carriage. His visor brightened upon seeing Sidewinder trying to lift a twisted part of the transport from Prowl’s unconscious frame. They were covered in energon splatters and parts of their plating were scuffed, dented and embedded with shrapnel from the explosion. It looked like Sidewinder had fared somewhat better than Prowl though and Jazz set to work helping the mech move the metal pinning him down.

It wouldn’t budge and Jazz swore when he felt the carriage slip a little further over the sloping ledge. “It’s going to tip…” he uttered through gritted denta.

“I’m not leaving him!” Sidewinder bit out, resorting to trying to kick the metal slab off Prowl in frustration.

Jazz grabbed him as the carriage creaked and groaned. “Stop! You’re making it worse. The vibrations are making the silica move.”

Both mechs paused and waited for the carriage to cease its precarious movements. “I’m going to cut him free. When I say, you drag him out as fast as you can the weight shift will cause this whole carriage to lose its balance.”

“Drag him where?” Sidewinder demanded frantically.

“Up there.” Jazz pointed to the side of the carriage currently serving as their roof. A large gash in the metal was big enough for a mech to fit through, though it would hurt like slag. “Ready?”

Sidewinder nodded and curled his hands about Prowl’s shoulders as Jazz whipped out an energon blade he'd made and hidden while in prison and started cutting away part of the metal directly in contact with Prowl, ensuring that it was still supported so it wouldn’t crush him. When he was almost done, Prowl groaned and stirred and the metal began to buckle.

“Now!” Jazz yelled.

Sidewinder reacted quickly and yanked Prowl free, wincing when the mech cried out in pain and parts of his plating were torn off along jagged edges of ruined carriage. Ignoring Prowl’s whimpers, Sidewinder hauled him up to the side with Jazz’s help and squeezed himself through before reaching down to pull Prowl up. He cursed when one of Prowl’s sensor panels got caught and scraped along the sharp edge of the tear.

Behind them, Jazz felt the carriage tipping and he tugged Prowl’s sensor panel sharply, forcing it to hang at an odd angle, tearing a scream from the Praxian. “Sorry, mech,” he murmured, pushing Prowl up through the gap. Climbing up swiftly, he wasted no time and shoved both mechs off the carriage before leaping off.

He landed with a grunt and rolled. Turning onto his back he stared as the carriage lost its fight and slipped over the edge, dragging the rest of the transport with it and crashing into the rust sea far below them with a resounding crash.

He flopped back onto the silica dune with an ex-vent of relief, despite knowing that Metasis would almost certainly catch up to them now.

“Well. I guess we’re walking then,” Sidewinder muttered.

Jazz couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I don’t know, could be worse, mech” he responded with a smirk. “Still beats prison.”


	10. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this how it ends?

**Silica Flats**   
**Somewhere between Polihex and Iacon**

The silica flats weren’t so much flat as they were empty and devoid of most forms of Cybertronian life. They were also difficult to traverse given that one of the trio was injured. Jazz was concerned that they weren’t putting enough distance between them and the crash and subsequently Metasis but he stayed quiet on the matter. Sidewinder felt guilty enough having a tracker embedded onto his protoform, without Jazz exacerbating the situation.

They were both also worried about Prowl. The mech had regained consciousness but had lost energon in the explosion and with the pain from his injuries and weakened state, he was virtually silent and had to stop frequently. The only thing he had said since the crash was that they needed to leave him behind. They were trying to save Jazz after all. He was only slowing them down. After both of them had dismissed that suggestion outright, Prowl had become withdrawn and quiet. Jazz suspected the mech was possibly in some form of shock from the explosion as well as riddled by his own guilt at the situation they were currently in. Still things couldn’t get much worse, Jazz mused to himself. Having a crazed killer after you, was probably at the top of his ‘worst slag to happen to you,’ list, just above being imprisoned wrongfully.

This continued for a few cycles. Sidewinder had become convinced that Metasis wasn’t far behind them. He urged Prowl to continue, even when he clearly needed to stop. They had almost run out of energon rations, having lost most of their supplies on the transport. Prowl did the best he could but he could only walk across the flats for at most half a cycle at a time. Recharge wasn’t easy for any of them but despite their reservations about stopping, they all needed rest by the end of the fourth cycle.

Jazz found them decent shelter in a small cave system created by crystallised silica. It was translucent, having melted into crude looking glass. Jazz surmised that it had been created by an asteroid at some point in Cybertron’s history, especially given that their atmosphere was exceedingly thin and didn’t stop whatever asteroids escaped their star’s massive gravitational field. It fit their purpose for now and allowed Jazz to keep a look out across the flats through the semi-clear walls of the cave.

When it was Sidewinder’s turn to take watch, Jazz was glad of the chance to rest but found himself roused after only a short recharge. He frowned as he lay on the gritty ground. His optics peered out through the walls of the cave. The sky was a deep, dark blue, as it always was during the dark cycle. It never went completely dark on Cybertron thanks to their star’s size. The blue light simply faded to an eerie glow as their planet turned on its axis. Jazz couldn’t figure out why he had been roused from recharge, there was nothing outside and his audio couldn’t pick up anything untoward. He turned absently, feigning a faint memory purge in his recharge, offlining the light of his visor to check on the other two. He frowned as he spied Sidewinder leaning over Prowl who was deep in recharge due to his self repair zapping a lot of his energy. Sidewinder was whispering something into Prowl’s audio, was that what had woken him up? Jazz kept still as Sidewinder glanced at him to make sure he was still in recharge, before looking back down at Prowl with a sad smile.

“You’re the best mech I know. A pain in my aft but I wouldn’t change you. Can’t help what the spark wants right?” Sidewinder murmured softly. “I have to go. It’ll buy you some time. I hope… one cycle you can forgive me,” Sidewinder vented a soft sigh and looked out of the cave. The light was getting brighter, it would be morning soon. It was now or never. Leaning closer to Prowl he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of the mech’s slightly parted mouth and rested his helm against Prowl’s. “Don’t forget me. Don’t ever change.”

Jazz recorded Sidewinder’s words discreetly, knowing that Prowl couldn’t hear them. He frowned when Sidewinder got up and headed for the mouth of the cave and stopped, looking back over his shoulder, directly at Jazz.

“You keep him alive. You keep him safe. You owe him that much.”

Jazz’s intakes stalled, the words were meant for him, Sidewinder must have known he was awake and he sat up slowly. His visor brightened as Sidewinder gave him a small smile before he transformed and sped off in a different direction than they were headed. Without his transformation cogs, Jazz had no way to catch up to him. Silently he stepped outside the cave and stared after the blur that was now Sidewinder. As the blue light of their sun became brighter and morning crept over them, Jazz kept watch in the direction he had left until he had vanished on the horizon.

****

“Prowl come on mech, it’s time to go,” Jazz gently roused the still recharging Prowl. His body felt warm to the touch, indicating his self repair was working in overdrive. “Drink this,” Jazz held a ration to Prowl’s mouth and helped him to sit up as he groggily swallowed the fuel.

“Where is Sidewinder?” Prowl asked quietly with a slight frown as he became more alert. Thanks to his self repair and the longer than planned recharge, he was starting to feel a little better. Not a hundred percent but it was nothing a medic could not fix.

“He went to scout ahead, you needed to rest. We’ll catch up,” Jazz pushed to his feet, avoiding optic contact with Prowl. He hated lying to him but telling him that Sidewinder had literally sacrificed himself to buy them some much needed time would not go down well and would likely only delay them further. “Let’s go, it’s still early, we can make good time.”

Prowl nodded and gingerly stood up. He held up a hand when Jazz moved to his side to help him walk. “I believe I can manage, thank you,” he gave Jazz a weak smile. His body ached but it was nothing compared to what Metasis would do if he caught up to them. That thought drove him forward. They weren’t too far from Iacon now. At most they were a couple of cycles walk from the city’s borders. Prowl started to feel hopeful that they would make it and all this could be resolved once and for all.

“Have you ever been to Iacon, Jazz?” he asked casually as they walked across the silica flats, which were thankfully becoming flatter.

“Once, I think, when I was very young. My creators were musicians, they travelled to the big cities sometimes to perform. They stopped shortly after having me but I do remember Iacon vaguely. It was their last gig.”

“Did you follow in their footsteps?”

“Sort of,” Jazz smiled. “I worked at the music academy, you probably visited it when you were digging around my case. I taught and performed. Danced, sang, acted, the works.”

Prowl didn’t miss the wistful way in which Jazz spoke about his past. “Perhaps it is something you could go back to. Once this is all over.”

“Yeah, maybe… I don’t know, haven’t really thought about the future, you understand.”

Prowl did understand. Being locked up in a prison for what seemed like the rest of your life, did not leave much room for thinking about the future. They fell into an amicable silence as they walked, until Jazz spoke again.

“How about you? Did you follow in your creators’ footsteps or did Isotron?” Jazz smirked at Prowl, not sure how the mech coped with living two distinctly different lives.

“It is… complicated,” Prowl replied with a raised optic ridge. “My Sire was always supportive of my creative interests but my Carrier only desired that I follow him and for a time I did. I trained as an enforcer at the academy in Praxus, graduated the top of my class, could have been a captain by now but I decided to take a different route.”

“Wanted to get out from under his shadow, huh?”

“You could say that. I had always had a passion for writing but in the beginning it didn’t bring in much income so I became a crime analyst. Thanks to my tactical centre in my processor, I proved to be quite successful. It also gave me a window of opportunity.”

“Crime writing,” Jazz stated with a smile.

“Exactly. It is what I understand and am most familiar with,” Prowl explained.

“Bet your Carrier wasn’t happy.”

“No,” Prowl frowned. “We do not speak much, I like to believe he is at least proud of my achievements as a crime analyst but he chooses to largely ignore my writing. We don’t speak of it, if at all possible. He is a very opinionated and forthright mech and I suppose he does have a reputation to uphold.”

Jazz nodded in understanding as he listened. “Is he some big shot enforcer then?”

“He is the Commissioner of Praxus, he is in charge of the entire enforcement agency.”

Jazz whistled. “Big shadow,” he murmured softly.

“Indeed. Austere is not a mech to be crossed or disagreed with lightly. I am hoping that he will help us however, despite holding a grudge the size of Cybertron itself.”

“You asked for his help?”

“I needed to send our evidence out in case we did not reach Iacon. It is a fail safe,” Prowl clarified. “He should have received my package by now, hopefully he will help if he can.”

Jazz remained quiet at that, a frown creasing his faceplates. “You sure you can trust him?” he asked quietly after a little while.

Prowl gave Jazz a look of confusion. “He is my creator, why would I not trust him?”

Giving Prowl a shrug, Jazz’s mouth twisted as bitter memories came to the surface. “Grudges make mechs do questionable things. Look at my situation.”

Prowl frowned and looked away, focusing ahead of them. “My relationship with my creator is very different than what you had with Metasis, Jazz. He would not let a grudge stop him from helping me. I trust him. He has no reason to hurt me, no matter our personal grievances with one another.”

“Metasis had no reason to hurt me either,” Jazz countered pointedly, before giving Prowl a sidelong glance. “And I wasn’t actually talking about him. I can tell you right now, I hold a grudge, a very sizable one and there is nothing in the ‘verse that’s going to stop me from putting a blade deep into his spark.”

****

**Iacon**   
**Council Building of Primus**

“Stop in the name of the Prime!”

“You can’t go in there! Sir!”

“Grab them!”

“Optimus!”

The large red and blue mech stood and turned sharply as his name was hollered out across the council chambers. He frowned, recognising the two mechs as they were bodily tackled by what looked like a battalion of enforcers. It took the majority of them to wrestle the warriors to the ground.

“Desist! What is the meaning of this?” Stepping into the fray, Optimus pulled one enforcer back and held out his hands to placate the others as they picked themselves up off the floor. “Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, care to explain yourselves?”

Brushing himself off and glaring at the enforcers darkly as he helped his brother to his feet, Sunstreaker gave the new Prime a subtle bow. “We’re here for Prowl.”

“Prowl?” Optimus was confused, the last he heard Prowl was in Polihex, not Iacon.

“He’s in trouble,” Sideswipe added, for once, his expression devoid of amusement. “He needs your help.”

****

**Silica Flats**   
**Somewhere near the borders of Iacon**

“Any bright ideas to get us out of this one?” Jazz panted as the two mechs finally found a place to hide amongst old crystal ruins. They had been forced to run the last leg of their journey when Jazz had picked up what could only be Metasis’ alt on the horizon, gaining on them.

“I’m afraid not,” Prowl’s intakes wheezed and he bent double, his frame trembling from exertion. He was suffering from his injuries and their unexpected sprint across the silica flats. “We are close to the city, however, we could make a run for it.”

Jazz shook his helm. “He saw us, he’s out there. It’s too close. What we need is… a diversion.”

Prowl met Jazz’s gaze with bright optics. “Don’t you even dare!” he growled out. “I have comm’d Sidewinder, if he’s close, he’ll get help. He should be here, just like you said.”

“He’s not coming, Prowl,” Jazz countered softly, flinching when the mech pinned him with a glare.

“What are you not telling me?” Prowl asked somberly.

Jazz sighed, his visor dimming. “Look I had nothing to do with it, he made a choice. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you wouldn’t take it well and would want to go after him…”

“Tell me what, Jazz?” Prowl demanded harshly.

“Sidewinder left. He went a different direction. He knew that the tracker on him was leading Metasis right to us and with you injured and me unable to transform, I guess he figured it was the only way.”

“He left to buy us time? He deliberately led that psychopath astray, risking his life?” Prowl scowled deeply. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“What would you have done?” Jazz argued. “If he hadn’t, I guarantee Metasis would have caught up to us out there and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. I chose what I thought was the best decision for everyone.”

“You chose wrong!” Prowl snarled angrily, his one good sensor panel rising on his back.

“Look, Prowl, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but Sidewinder did this for yo--acck!”

Both mechs were thrown to the ground as part of the opaque crystal formation they were hiding in exploded into tiny dagger like shards around them. Jazz cried out as a particularly large piece embedded itself in his side.

“Jazz!” Prowl crawled over to his side, helping to drag him deeper into the crystal ruins.

“I know you’re in there! When I find you, you’re going to wish you’d never been sparked!” Metasis’ snarling voice reverberated through the crystal formation, echoing off its walls.

“Prowl you got to go!” Jazz hissed, pushing Prowl away.

“Not without you.”

Pushing himself up to standing, Jazz glared in the direction of Metasis’ voice. “You can transform, even injured, I can’t. You need to get that evidence to your friend, or all of this, Sidewinder’s sacrifice… it will have all been for nothing.”

“And if I leave you here to the mercies of that maniac, it will still have all been for nothing,” Prowl tried to argue, his sensor panel twitching with distress.

Jazz smirked darkly and pulled out his energon blade. “Don’t you worry about me. I’ve got a very old score to settle.”

Prowl stared at the blade before meeting Jazz’s intense gaze. “You’re sure about this? You don’t have to do this.”

Another shot rang out shattering another crystal growth nearby, forcing both mechs deeper into the formation.

“Yeah. I do,” Jazz grinned at Prowl and curled a hand around his helm, tugging him close and crushing his mouth against Prowl’s.

Prowl mewled into the kiss with surprise. He gasped when it broke, his optics bright.

“Not every cycle you get a chance to kiss your favourite author. Thanks for everything,” Jazz grinned. “Now go! Before it’s too late.”

Pressing his mouth into a thin line, Prowl grabbed Jazz’s helm and returned his kiss with a fierce one of his own. “Stay alive, promise me,” he hissed against his lip plating.

“Promise,” Jazz whispered, despite the doubt swirling around his spark. When Prowl pulled away and disappeared into one of the narrow tunnels of the formation, away from Metasis, Jazz almost wished he was crawling in after him. Shaking his helm, he turned in the direction of Metasis and idly twirled his blade between his fingers, a malicious smirk tugging at his mouth. “I’m going to enjoy this.”


	11. Game Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many loose ends to tie up.

“You can’t win this, Jazz,” Metasis called out. “Let me have what I want, give me Prowl and I’ll kill you quickly. You know better than most that it’s better than the alternative.”

Jazz scoffed, tucked inside a niche in the crystal while he figured out his next move. Metasis was a big mech, in a head on fight, Jazz would probably lose and he had no intention of meeting Primus today. Thinking back to fights he had gotten into in prison, he smirked. Every mech like Metasis had an ego and if you poked at a particularly sore point, they always let down their guard. “What, your boss get tired of cleaning up your messes? You have been sloppy,” Jazz goaded loudly.

Metasis’ mouth curled into a sneer but before he could respond his comm. blinked. His employer had been frantic since Jazz’s prison escape and had barely left Metasis alone to finish the job. //What now?// he growled into his comm. not bothering to hide it. Jazz was as good as dead anyway.

//Have you got them? Are they dead?//

//I have Jazz pinned but I heard the Praxian escaping.//

//Frag… he is trouble, if he gives his evidence to anyone else, I am done for!//

Metasis resisted the urge to roll his optics. //You don’t even know what evidence he has. You’re probably not even incriminated.//

//Can’t take that chance. Besides, Prowl sent his evidence on ahead and I’m told we’ll all go down if it’s made public.//

//Well I can’t split myself in half. I will take care of Jazz first then go after the Prowl.//

//I contacted my brother… he… he has agreed to help clean up this mess once and for all.//

Metasis was surprised to hear that. //Thought he didn’t want to get his hands dirty? That’s why he hired me six vorns ago.//

//Things change. Prowl’s evidence threatens him too though I doubt Prowl even realised. I already told him if I am arrested I will tell them everything.//

//Nothing sacred between family, huh? So noble of you.// Metasis huffed, firing a volley into the crystal structure to try and draw Jazz out.

The mech ignored the dig and continued. //He’s in Iacon, he said he will contain his glitched spawn, better him anyway. Prowl obviously trusts him, sent him his evidence. You just worry about Jazz and then disappear. I’ll send the rest of the credits to your private account. Get them and close it.//

Metasis smirked at that. He had already planned on vanishing for a while, making a new life for himself. It was what he did best; blending in. //Consider it done. You sure he can handle Prowl? I should make sure...//

//No!// the other mech replied sharply. //He’ll get it done. He can’t afford not to.//

Metasis nodded in agreement at that. //Keeping it in the family. He always was a cold sparked one. Almost want to see it for myself.// He grinned darkly.

//Don’t get cocky! No theatrics. Just deactivate Jazz and make sure he’s never found.//

//Anything else?// Metasis growled out.

//Just get it done.//

The comm. call cut out and Metasis let out a sneer of derision and returned his focus to finding and killing Jazz. “We’re alone now, Jazz. Just like you always used to want. How about you come out and play?” he growled out with barely restrained menace.

Jazz sat in his niche, his visor bright. His sharp audios had managed to pick up some of the comm. call. Enough to know that Prowl was walking into a trap.

****

Optimus poured over the documents the twins had given to him and was frowning deeply. “Prowl couldn’t have known what was on the entirety of these documents,” he declared softly.

The twins shared a glance and Sideswipe shrugged. “I think he was more concerned with trying to clear Jazz.”

“It has deeper implications. Especially into the leadership of Polihex,” Optimus explained, glancing up at them.

Sunstreaker nodded. “He did mention something about someone in power not wanting the truth to get out and of there being a cover up but he didn’t mention names or anything,” he frowned at his brother who stared at him in curious surprise. “What? I listen.”

Sighing, Optimus stood up and shook his helm. “I can help with the politics of this matter and ensure a proper investigation takes place. Where is Prowl now?”

“In the Silica flats, on the way here. Metasis is definitely trailing them,” Sunstreaker replied.

“How can you know that?”

“We ah… planted a tracker on Prowl before we left,” Sideswipe explained somewhat sheepishly.

Optimus’s optics brightened at that. “He will be surprised by your initiative.”

Sunstreaker shrugged. “Need to protect our investment. He still owes us credits for getting our afts handed to us by that slag heap, Metasis.”

Optimus was vaguely amused by the twins carefully concealed concern of Prowl. It made sense really. Prowl had pulled them out of a bad situation, set them on a better path and while he had never held the twins to anything, they had felt indebted to him. Optimus knew they had a lot of respect and loyalty to the Praxian, though they would be the last to admit it. “I can’t send soldiers out for civilians on a civilian matter, not as my first act as Prime,” he stated somberly.

“Optimus, they’ll die out there,” Sunstreaker tried to argue before Optimus held up his hand to silence him.

“I can’t send soldiers. I can send my personal guard.”

The twins turned as a bulky red mech marched into the room, followed by a taller blue and white mech who looked bored with the situation. “What d’you need us for, Optimus?” The red mech asked first.

“Ironhide, Mirage, meet Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. They’re friends of Prowl’s.”

The taller mech scoffed and folded his arms. “I did not know Prowl had friends,” he drawled sardonically.

“Watch your mouth!” Sideswipe snapped, only for his brother to place a hand on his arm.

“Guess you would know, being an alpha, noble,” Sunstreaker growled out, daring Mirage to respond with a dark glare.

Optimus vented a sigh. “Prowl is my friend as well you know, Mirage and he’s in trouble. I need you two to go with the twins to find him, stop whoever is after them, arrest them if you can and bring him back here.”

“No offence, Prime,” Mirage answered. “But have you seen the news feeds? Prowl is a wanted fugitive. He broke a known murderer out of a Polihex prison.”

“As usual, the media has not got all of the facts. I need him found. I need him safe, this… Jazz too so I can clear this matter up once and for all,” Optimus handed the two mechs some of the evidence Prowl had sent him, hurriedly saved on datapads. “If Prowl is right, this Jazz has been a victim of a six vorn cover up and one of my first acts as Prime will be making sure the leaders of Polihex answer for their crimes.”

Ironhide smirked at that. “They can be the example to the other city states you were looking for,” he added resolutely.

“Precisely. Vos and Kaon will know that unlike my predecessor, I am serious about reform across our planet,” Optimus looked at the twins. “Do not kill this Metasis, I want him back alive to stand trial for what he has done. Let Ironhide and Mirage detain him, am I clear?”

“As crystal,” Sunstreaker bit out, heading for the door after Ironhide and Mirage.

“If he slips and falls onto my fist though…what can you do, right?” Sideswipe gave Optimus a lopsided grin and a shrug as he followed his brother out of the room.

Shaking his helm at Sideswipe, Optimus sat down with resignation and picked up the datapad with the images of the original crime scene. “All of this because of one mech’s mistake.”

****  
Prowl raced towards the city of Iacon looming before him. He was red lining it and draining his energy reserves but Jazz was on borrowed time. Metasis wasn’t going to wait around for him to get help and Prowl was not certain whether or not Jazz would survive whatever he was planning. When his comm. blipped, Prowl swerved slightly in surprise.

//Prowl? Where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you!//

//Creator?//

//Thank Primus, you’re alright. I got your evidence, I came as soon as I could when I learned you might be headed here. I’m here to help. Tell me where you are. Everything is going to be alright.//

//You got the evidence. It goes much higher up within the leadership of Polihex than I ever thought. There’s so much corruption.//

//Don’t worry about that now. Just get yourself to me. Have you been followed, is the mech you broke out of prison still with you?//

//How do you know about that?//

Austere sighed audibly over the comm. //Prowl, you are a wanted mech, it is all over the news feeds. Polihex does not want the truth to get out they’ll discredit you as much as they can. They’re claiming this is some delusion created by your writer persona. I always knew you being a writer was a bad idea.//

Prowl’s engine revved in frustration. //Can we not do this now?//

//Yes. Of course. Where are you?// Austere changed the topic, much to Prowl’s relief.

//Heading into the city, I will reach the main border soon. I am on the Silica flats coming from the crystal ruins north east of the city. Jazz is in trouble. Metasis found us, we need to go back and help him.//

//We will. Don’t worry. Get to the city gates. I will meet you there.//

//I was going to find Optimus. He can help.//

//He already knows, Prowl. Stop worrying, have you ever known your carrier not to be prepared?//

//Austere… Carrier… thank you.// Prowl answered gratefully, relief flooding through him. This would all be over soon.

//I’ll see you soon, Prowl.//

Austere cut the comm. and nodded to the four mechs waiting silently beside him. “You know what to do.”

****

Jazz and Metasis circled one another like hungry predators. Metasis had long since discarded his weapon in favour of ripping Jazz limb from limb. He had been surprised, pleasantly so, by the sudden ferocity of Jazz’s attack. It had happened without warning and Jazz had the added advantage of small stature and speed on him. Metasis however, had brute force and many vorns of practise. He knew hundreds of ways to kill a mech with just his bare hands. Yet he had not taken into account Jazz’s six brutal vorns in prison nor his desperation to survive.

Their intakes rattled from the effort of their fight. It was only a matter of time before one of them gave the other an inch and then the fight would be over. They were splattered with energon, some their own. Metasis had at least managed to knock Jazz’s blade free, but that hadn’t stopped the annoyingly resourceful mech from using the crystal shards around them as pseudo weapons.

“Got nothin’ to say, slag heap?” Jazz sneered, wiping energon from his face.

“I was merely thinking that if you had such skills six vorns ago, I might not have let you go. The berth would have been so much more entertaining,” Metasis leered at Jazz, optics drifting over his frame.

“You took six vorns of my life!” Jazz bit out through gritted denta. “We were together for three vorns, what you were just using me that whole time?”

Metasis gave Jazz a casual shrug. “I had a job to do, you were a convenient distraction and a most useful asset in the end,” he smirked darkly. “Besides, prison has done wonders for you, Jazzy.”

“Don’t you ever call me that,” Jazz retorted. “You’re a sick fragger. Those sparklings, those caretakers. Why, Metasis? You ruined my life, the least you could do is tell me why. Was it just some twisted game of yours?”

“Cleaning up messes, that’s my job,” Metasis smiled and held his arms wide. “Someone made a very big mess and I was hired to clean up. Turns out the powers that be in Polihex didn’t want their illicit affairs and illegitimate sparklings becoming public. Bribery is also a powerful motivator in the desire to silence someone,” Metasis grinned and his optics flashed almost maniacally. “That’s where I come in.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Cleaning up? You tortured those mechs and those sparklings you sick fragger!”

“There’s no law against enjoying your job. They were dead anyway. Loose ends,” Metasis snarled, his fists clenching. “Just like you and your friend.”

Jazz braced himself as Metasis rushed for him and he managed to dart out of the way, only for Metasis to grab him by the helm, twisting a helm horn in his grasp as he slammed Jazz backwards into the ground.

“And oh the fun I’m going to have with your friend,” Metasis growled out. “I wonder if he screams like his assistant did,” he grinned and ripped off the helm horn in his grasp, wrenching a scream from Jazz. He purred. “Oh yes, just like that.”

Jazz tried to focus through the pain and used his lower centre of gravity to drop low and twist out of Metasis’ hands, he turned quickly and barralled into the mech, tackling him around his middle and sending both of them crashing to the ground, each of them grappling furiously, viciously for the upper hand.

Metasis hollered in frustration and amidst the flurry of hard and fast punches raining down on him, managed to use his sheer bulk to shove Jazz off his frame. Picking the smaller mech up, he slammed him helm first into the crystalline wall and flung him to the adjacent wall with a roar of anger.

Jazz grunted and slid to the floor in a heap. He struggled to his feet and threw a wide punch at Metasis, only for the mech to grab his arm and yank it fiercely. He cried out as pain lanced through his shoulder joint. Cabling snapped as Metasis twisted the limb and Jazz felt his helm swimming, his vision going fuzzy through the pain assaulting his systems. With a holler of defiance he pushed off the wall with his legs and rammed the weight of his entire body into Metasis, ignoring the agony from his ruined shoulder and arm.

On the floor once more, Jazz reached for a nearby crystal rock, while Metasis clawed and bit at whatever he could reach and smashed it into Metasis’ helm. Using the momentary reprieve, he scrambled off the mech’s frame and made a run for his discarded weapon.

Metasis was not a mech to be put down so easily and he was on his feet in a flash, grabbing Jazz’s leg and sending him face first to the ground. He planted a large foot on Jazz’s back and smirked with his impending victory. “I’m going to kill you slowly, Jazzy! I’m going to tear you a new valve and you will scream my name before you meet Primus,” he leaned closer to sneer in Jazz’s audio. “You’ll die knowing just how much worse it’s going to be for Prowl. I’m going to break him so badly he will beg me to kill him. All because of you.”

Jazz couldn’t move with Metasis’ weight pinning him, crushing him into the ground but he quickly managed to stretch his good arm out and reached for Metasis’ abandoned weapon. Metasis tried to take it but Jazz fired the gun widely, sending shards of crystal and rock cascading down upon them. Metasis ducked and took cover as larger rocks pelted his helm, threatening to kill them both. Using the distraction, Jazz forced himself to his feet and ran for the exit, with Metasis hot on his heels.

“Why can’t you just die!?” Metasis screeched in frustration. “Make it easy on yourself, Jazzy!”

Jazz didn’t slow down a plan forming in his processor as he turned sharply and slipped on smooth crystal, heading into a cave area he and Prowl had passed through. He yelped and stumbled as something sharp pierced his back but he did not stop. It was now or never. Either he killed Metasis or was killed. Racing towards the stalagmites protruding from the ground, Jazz launched himself at the biggest. He could barely see straight thanks to the excruciating pain shooting through his body with every move but he could not surrender, not now. He couldn’t do that to Prowl, leave him to the mercies of this maniac, not after everything the mech had done for him.

“I’ve got you now, Jazzy!” Metasis roared out, the reverberations of his voice sending some of the sharp stalactites to the ground, piercing the crystal-rock ground like giant daggers.

Jazz threw a drop kick at his chosen stalagmite and the crystal finally gave a satisfying crack and fell to the ground. Swiftly Jazz bent down and grabbed it. It was heavier than he had expected and with only one functional arm he couldn’t lift it completely off the ground. He threw a glance over his shoulder and mentally prepared himself for impact. Metasis was already upon him, this was it. Game over.


	12. Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this the end?

Prowl bolted towards Iacon, feeling more hopeful than he had done the last few cycles. His processor drifted to Sidewinder and he was filled with concern, he knew there was not much chance of his assistant having survived an encounter with Metasis, but he chose to hope anyway and he would until Sidewinder was found. His thoughts were shattered as something jolted through his body. It was electricity bursting through him like a lightning strike, forcing him to transform and come to a tumbling halt as he crashed into a silica dune. His frame twitched and jerked, his limbs feeling like they weren’t his own as the voltage rushing through him, increased to agonising levels. He cried out in pain, writhing on the ground, his vision blurring, even as his audio picked up an unfamiliar voice and he tried to focus on the feet and legs of several mecha approaching, unable to lift his helm up off the ground.

//Yeah, we got him. Bringing him now.//

It was the last thing Prowl heard before he succumbed and his world faded to black.

****

When Prowl came to he found himself restrained, his wrists locked in stasis cuffs behind him and magnetised to the back of the chair he was sat on - a very standard restraint for enforcers to use on dangerous or violent criminals. Optics flickering, he peered around the dark room. There were no windows, no lights. It made him feel disoriented and vulnerable. He tried to turn on his own lights only to be confronted with error messages. The ambush had blown several internal fuses. “What is this?” he called out to the darkness. Some bot had brought him here for a reason, someone would be listening. “Why are you doing this?” he pulled at his restraints to no avail. “Who are you?!” he hollered out, frustrated at the lack of response and the insipid darkness surrounding him.

“You haven’t figured it out yet? I am disappointed.”

Prowl froze at the sound of the deep timber of the other mech’s voice. “What is this?” he whispered, dread filling his spark.

“I thought I had raised you better than that, mechling. Yet, here you are still floundering in the dark. Chasing stories, saving low lifes.”

“Creator…?” Prowl’s voice caught in his vocaliser, his intakes hitching, it couldn’t be, he wouldn’t. Even as his procesor tried to convince itself, Prowl knew it had already lost. For he knew the truth, deep in his spark. “Why are you doing this?” he choked out.

The room filled with blinding light, eliciting a hiss of pain from Prowl as his optics struggled to adjust. Austere stared impassively down at his only creation and stepped closer as Prowl flinched and tried to peer at him through the blinding light. “There’s only one thing I abhor more than failure, Prowl and that is disappointment,” he vented a long suffering sigh. “My brother is an abject failure but you… you have been such an immense disappointment, especially regarding this… case of yours.”

Glaring back at his carrier in bold defiance, Prowl clenched his jaw. “You... you’re involved? Your brother…?” he scowled in disgust. “You won’t get away with thi--aack!”

Prowl’s helm snapped back as Austere whipped the back of his large hand across his face, with enough force to crack thin faceplates.

“I had hoped to reason with you. Appeal to the intelligence that you harbour somewhere in that stubborn, obnoxious processor of yours. What a colossal waste of credits that upgrade was. I see now that it will be futile. You are going to be just as difficult as you have always been. What a pity. You had such potential, youngling,” Austere grabbed Prowl’s face by the chin and forced him to look him in the optic, gently wiping away the energon trickling down Prowl’s cheek. “Your Sire will be devastated,” he declared with sad resignation before an unfeeling, cold smile crept across his face. “Well, I can always make more sparklings.”

****

Sunstreaker screeched to a halt just outside the crystal ruins with Sideswipe not far behind. They had lost Prowl’s signal and so had gone to the last place they had detected it. Ironhide and Mirage caught up to them after a few kliks, neither mech seemingly put out by the speed of the twins.

“You sure they’re in there?” Mirage asked as he transformed.

“This was Prowl’s last known location,” Sideswipe replied.

“Better hope so, because otherwise he’s on his own,” Sunstreaker added, drawing out a weapon.

“Can’t you just comm. the mech? Ironhide asked with a frown.

Sunstreaker threw him a pointed look. “Don’t you think we haven’t tried that?”

“His comms. aren’t responding. Either his comm has been disabled or--”

“--or we’re too late,” Mirage finished, pulling out his own weapon. “Wait here, I’ll scout ahead.”

The twins balked as the noble shimmered out of view. Only his foot prints could be seen in the silica as he headed into the crystal structure.

“I didn’t know he could do that,” Sunstreaker commented, glancing at Ironhide.

Ironhide simply smirked. “Yeah, it comes in handy.” He stilled, nodding as he received a comm. from Mirage. “He says to come inside. Be quiet, looks like signs of a struggle, someone might still be inside.”

“Hey Sunny!” Sideswipe called out from the other side of the formation where he had wandered. “I found tracks. Just one set, leading out of here towards the city.”

Sunstreaker frowned. “On tires? Means whoever it was, was probably injured.”

Ironhide grunted in agreement. “Follow them. We’ll check this place out and be right behind you. Don’t engage.”

Sideswipe simply gave them a nod and transformed, accelerating away from the crystals at top speed.

Ironhide lightly tapped Sunstreaker’s shoulder, drawing his attention away from his brother. “Come on, let’s go,” he prompted, stepping inside the eerie looking crystal ruins.

Following him, Sunstreaker held onto his weapon tightly. If Metasis was in here he was going to shoot first regardless of what Optimus had said. The mech had nearly killed him and his brother. If it weren’t for their speed they never would have escaped him. He wasn’t going to take any chances this time.

A guttural roar echoed through the ruins, causing parts of the crystals to shatter and crumble to the ground.

“This way!” Ironhide bolted through the maze of crystals, worried that Mirage was in trouble. He came to a stop when Mirage appeared opposite them.

“It came from down there,” Mirage pointed towards the narrow tunnel.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Sunstreaker snarled, ducking in first, jogging through the narrow corridor of crystal, coming to a stop as it opened up into a large cavern.   
“You trying to get yourself killed?” Mirage snapped behind him as both he and Ironhide emerged from the tunnel.

A groan drew their attentions before any mech could reply and Sunstreaker reacted immediately, rushing over to the glint of metal that reflected their light.

“Frag me…” Ironhide muttered as he came to a stop beside Sunstreaker. The three mechs stared at the sight with muted horror.

Jazz lay huddled on the ground, wrapped around the base of a large stalagmite which was protruding from the ground at an odd angle, he was barely recognisable through the stains of energon. He was pinned by the bulk of what could only be Metasis. The large mech was positioned in a bent double position, his greyed out face frozen into an expression of rage and surprise. The sharp crystalline stalagmite ran through Metasis’ chest, obliterating what would have been his spark chamber. It and the mech it had belonged to were impaled on the solid, vorns old crystal. He had slid down the shard far enough that the crystal almost completely pierced the entirety of his chest.

“He must have been moving at some speed to impale himself like that,” Mirage mused blandly as though he had seen such before.

Another groan had them staring at Jazz, whose visor lit up dimly. “Got lucky…” the smaller mech rasped, unfurling with a hiss of pain from his fetal position. The crystal stalagmite groaned and dropped slowly side ways, taking Metasis with it. “Prowl... “ Jazz coughed weakly, trying to push himself up.

Sunstreaker and Ironhide were by his side in an instant. “Sideswipe has gone after him. He’ll find him, it’s alright now, Metasis is gone.”

Jazz shook his helm and grabbed Sunstreaker’s arm, staring up at him with a bright visor. “A trap… he’s heading into a trap!”

****

Austere released Prowl’s helm and stepped back. “If only you had remained an enforcer. You could have been captain by now,” he stated with some vague regret. “Next time I will ensure that your Sire does not interfere in the upbringing. That was my mistake with you,” he clicked in admonishment.

“Tell me why?!” Prowl demanded angrily. “Why are you doing this?”

Sighing, Austere pinched his nasal bridge. “Family, Prowl. What have I always taught you?” When Prowl didn’t answer immediately, Austere grabbed his chevron and pinched the point hard, twisting the metal slightly.

Prowl keened at the pain and tried to jerk away, only for Austere to hold him still.

“Answer me!”

“The spark is weak. Do not trust. Do not let emotions get in the way of what needs to be done. Love is irrelevant,” Prowl bit out, his face screwed up in pain.

“Good,” Austere let go and smiled. “Glad to see not all my credits were wasted on your processor. As for your question. Family. I did not follow my own advice. Family is a powerful thing, Prowl, it can destroy you. I have worked too hard to get where I am to allow the mistakes of my glitched brother to tarnish or threaten what I have built. Praxus would only suffer for it. I could not let that happen.”

Prowl frowned at his creator. “I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

“For good reason. He was a mistake and he is a pain in my aft who makes too many mistakes. He asked me for help. I was younger, I was weaker. I was distracted and I should have had him killed along with his mistake,” Austere explained with regret. “But, I didn’t, I helped. That help proved to be insane so I fired him, barred him from ever returning to Praxus. I let my brother deal with the fallout in Polihex. He has learnt enough from me that he has power there. His cover up held for six vorns, untouched, unquestioned, until you,” the last word came out as a snarl as Austere glared at Prowl. “You just could not leave it alone.”

“You condemned an innocent mech to a life in a cell,” Prowl retorted with barely veiled disgust.

“No! My brother did that. Not my problem and it wasn’t your problem but you, oh Prowl…” Austere sighed and shook his helm once more. “You could have been great,” he murmured softly. Straightening, he gazed at his creation with something akin to fondness. “I will give you this, you have my tenacity, my drive. I will make sure you are given a proper ceremony. No sparkling of mine will be taken to the slag heap. Your frame will be returned to Praxus and the city will mourn for you.”

Prowl stared at his carrier in disbelieving horror. “You carried me… I was joined to your spark. How can you even contemplate this…? I trusted you… I-- I loved you...”

Austere’s optics dimmed a fraction. “And I you, Prowl. But you have broken my trust, pursuing this… charade of justice you hold so dear. I loved the mech you could have been, we could have controlled Praxus side by side. Alas… I will forever keep in my spark the memory of how bright a spark you were,” he smiled and leaned down, pressing his chevron to Prowl’s as the younger mech’s sensor panels trembled and his field rippled with unspoken confusion and raging emotions. “Do not fear young one, I’ll make sure it’s painless for you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the center of his chevron before pulling back and turning away.

“You are insane,” Prowl whispered, his spark aching with confused grief and bitter rage.

“No, I am driven, Prowl. A quality you and I share. Be with Primus, my sparkling,” Austere nodded to his four accomplices. “Sedate him. Make sure he feels nothing. Make it look like an ambush, vigilante justice and all that. He can die a misunderstood hero, trying to save a victim of injustice. Just don’t damage his face too much,” Austere glanced back at his creation, his spark swelling with a certain amount of pride that Prowl held his gaze with defiance right until the very end. “It would be too painful for his Sire not to recognise him at his memorial.”

“Yes Sir,” the largest mech replied with a sharp nod. “We’ll return to Praxus when it’s done. We’ll dump him back where we found him.”

Austere nodded absently, his thoughts already mulling over how he was going to address the public of Praxus to ensure the greatest sympathetic response. His partner would recover given enough time and if he did not, Austere was certain that there would be many willing to fill that role as he worked towards his rightful place as leader of Praxus.

 


	13. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can they reach Prowl in time? What does this mean for Jazz's future?

Sideswipe raced towards Iacon, following Prowl’s tracks until they changed and filled him with worry. The mech looked like he had been dragged a short distance, veering away from the city slightly to the almost abandoned slums that existed along the walls of Iacon. Transforming he frowned as he scanned over the area. Any mechs here were severely under fuelled and barely moving. Marching towards the small buildings, Sideswipe drew his weapon. His sharp optics picked up movement and he ducked behind the rusty steel of one desolate looking building, peering around to spy on the mech.

“Doorwings…” he muttered to himself. A Praxian. He had gotten Sunstreaker’s urgent comm. telling him that Prowl was heading into a trap. He also remembered that Prowl had said he had sent evidence of the corruption in Polihex to one other mech. “He wouldn’t…” he whispered to himself. Scowling, Sideswipe couldn’t see anyone else with the Praxian so he decided to risk it.

He rushed forward swiftly, transforming and barrelling towards the unsuspecting Praxian at full speed, only transforming at the last second, not giving the other mech a chance to react. He collided with the mech who had surprisingly quick reflexes. Sideswipe smirked, not fast enough. A few well placed punches dazed the mech enough to allow Sideswipe chance to restrain him. Grabbing the mech’s weapon and his own, he got to his feet and strolled into the building. “Prowl!” he called out, kicking open a door, startling four mechs who turned and stared at him in shock.

  
Sideswipe stared back, his optics taking in the sight of Prowl, bound on the floor and helpless, looking like he had had the slag beaten out of him. “Well, mechs, this cycle is not going to end well for you,” he smirked at them darkly and aimed his weapons at the mechs who had now regained their composure and were slowly advancing on him. “Come get some,” he growled out menacingly.

****  
 **Five cycles later**  
 **Iacon hotel**

Prowl stood at the large window gazing out over the grand city of Iacon. His sensor panels twitched when the door to his room opened behind him.

“Figured I’d find you here.”

Turning he regarded Jazz curiously. “You did not need to look for me,” he replied quietly.

“I know. Wanted to. Not had a chance to thank you,” Jazz moved closer, coming to stand beside Prowl.

“I heard that you have been cleared of all charges, congratulations,” Prowl stated with a flick of his sensor panels.

Jazz grinned a little and nodded. “Yeah, not sure what to do with myself.”

“Do you think you will return to Polihex?”

“Nah,” Jazz shook his helm. “It’s a mess there anyway. Austere agreed to testify against his brother for a more lenient sentence, Polihex is a mess. His brother was put in prison last cycle. Besides Optimus ah… um I mean Prime, offered me a position training with his spec ops after he read my academy scores, though I will have to go through all the basic training first.”

Prowl nodded, “You should consider it. The Elite Guard will take care of you,” he paused, his sensor panels lowering a fraction. “Praxus is not faring much better,” he declared softly. “My Sire is beside himself…” he sighed and bowed his helm.

Jazz’s visor dimmed and he turned, placing a hand on Prowl’s arm. “I’m so sorry about all this… your creator… Sidewinder… everything….”

Dim optics peered up at Jazz. “None of this was your doing, Jazz, I chose to get involved. I do not regret that decision, only that so many lives had to be ruined as a result of my… of Austere’s and his brother’s corruption.”

“You’re not like him, you know,” Jazz murmured, frowning. “You’re a good mech, Prowl. Whatever he said to you… don’t let it eat at you.”

Prowl huffed and raised an optic ridge. “This coming from the mech who couldn’t see past his own revenge, even at the risk of his own spark?”

Jazz smiled faintly. “Yeah well don’t be like me,” he held Prowl’s gaze for a long moment and leaned closer, reaching a hand up to cup Prowl’s cheek. He closed the distance when Prowl didn’t pull away and gently pressed his lip components against Prowl’s.

The kiss gradually deepened, until Prowl broke it with a gasp, ducking his helm apologetically, his hand curling about Jazz’s. “I’m sorry…. I can’t... not right now…”

Jazz nodded, resting his helm against Prowl’s, his field radiating understanding and reassurance, though he could feel Prowl closing himself off emotionally, his field was too quiet, too calm. “You know… if there’s anything… anything at all I can do… I’m here,” he murmured softly, his lips brushing against Prowl’s.

Prowl’s mouth curved into the barest hint of a smile and he took hold of Jazz’s hands. “I know. Thank you.”

The two mechs remained like that for a long while, simply finding comfort in the other. Everything had changed. Nothing in their lives would ever be the same again.

****

**Epilogue.**

**Forty Vorns later - Iacon.**

Frantic heated kisses traded back and forth as one mech pressed against the other, pinning him to the wall as his hands raked over his frame.

“Eager…” the first mech teased with a small smile, mewling into a fervent kiss as the other’s mouth claimed his own.

Breaking it with a gasp and a grin, the second mech chuckled. “Been waiting a long time. When you didn’t return my messages I thought something had happened.”

“Something did happen…” the first mech breathed, moaning as the other mech mouthed over his throat and his hands explored his frame slowly.

“Best news I’ve had in vorns.”

The first mech smiled and pushed off the wall, claiming a heated passionate kiss of his own. “Berth,” he stated with a barely restrained growl.

“Primus yes,” the second mech allowed himself to be led into the berth room and the two mechs collapsed onto its soft padding, limbs entangled, as they explored one another eagerly.

Over the vorns since Prowl had returned to Praxus, he and Jazz had traded messages back and forth. Simple things like how they were or how their current situation was. They had grown closer despite the distance and with everything they had been through and survived together an emotional connection had formed, deeper than one of friendship.

On the anniversary of Sidewinder’s deactivation, Jazz had received a package. Inside it had been the last ever published novel by Isotron Quartz. The writer had shortly afterwards, announced his retirement from writing. It had saddened Jazz and weighed on his spark, that was until he had read that final novel. It was a tale of injustice, wrongful imprisonment and the bravery of one mech who had risked it all to save an innocent life. It had everything Jazz enjoyed, intrigue, tension, the thrill of the chase and the hero; Sidewinder getting his happy ending with the mech he had almost died to save.

That was the cycle Jazz had first decided to visit Prowl and the two mechs had not looked back since. Over the forty long vorns apart, Jazz and Prowl had found a piece of themselves they had lost in the other’s spark. Tragedy had brought them together and through it, made them stronger.

This cycle however was the first time Prowl had ever visited Iacon since the fateful arrest of his carrier. He had been busy trying to calm the unrest in Praxus and had rejoined the enforcers, facing an almost insurmountable amount of distrust and resentment, to work towards helping the city regain the stability that had reigned under Austere’s iron grip. Without the corruption the mech had used to achieve it.

Jazz didn’t know why Prowl had visited and right now, on that berth, with Prowl in his arms, moaning out his name with pleasure, he didn’t care. He just hoped he would be able to stay a while, before they had to return to their lives lived apart.

****

**Next Cycle**

Optimus smiled at Jazz who stood beside him. “Early for you, I heard you only like the dark cycle shifts.”

Jazz smirked and shrugged at his commander. “When my Prime tells me he’s found his right hand mech, I’m all over it. Got to make sure he passes the Jazz test of approval now.”

Optimus chuckled, glad to have someone as capable and confident as Jazz by his side. The mech had risen quickly through the ranks of the Elite Guard and now commanded the Prime’s special operations unit, with Mirage as his second. Cybertron was changing however and the unrest in Kaon and Vos had caused the Prime to strengthen his armies. Optimus hoped to avoid war but he was not naive enough to not prepare for the worst. "I have it on good authority that he's more than capable of handling the troops, even the twins."

"That I gotta see!" Jazz grinned. He turned when his leader touched his shoulder and followed his gaze to the Prime's transport delivering his new second in command. His spark skipped a pulse when a familiar frame stepped off the transport and marched regally towards them.

“Jazz, I think you already know Prowl, my new tactical chief and recently promoted second in command of the Elite Guard.”

Prowl inclined his helm slightly with a smirk. “Prime, Officer Jazz, it is pleasant to see you again. And as you are special operations commander, Jazz, I look forward to working with you very closely.” he declared coyly, his small smile speaking volumes, only for Jazz.

Jazz’s face broke into a bright smile as Optimus glanced down at him. “I take it that he passes the Jazz test of approval?” the Prime asked with rumbling amusement.

“Oh yes,” Jazz held Prowl’s gaze. “With flying colours.”

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and following and commenting and kudosing. Without you readers, this would literally just be an archive. You keep my fingers typing. I hope you keep enjoying my stories.


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